Riddles in the Hallway

Maya's golden retriever, Buster, nudged her hand with that wet-nose desperation that meant someone needed attention. Probably her, honestly.

"I know, buddy," she whispered, scrolling through Instagram for the third time that hour. "Everyone's at Jordan's party except us. Again."

Being the only one not invited sucked, but what sucked more was the weird feeling she'd been having lately. Like she was being watched. Not in a creepy way—okay, maybe a little creepy. In AP History, she'd catch Sasha glancing at her phone every time Maya's screen lit up. In the cafeteria, conversations seemed to pause when she walked past.

Paranoia? Maybe. But her therapist mom always said trust your gut.

"You think I'm being dramatic?" she asked Buster. He thumped his tail, unimpressed.

Friday night, while her parents were at dinner, Maya's phone pinged. An anonymous message: "We need to talk about Jordan."

Her heart did that thing where it forgot how to rhythm. A spy? Like, actually? This was giving major Netflix energy, but also... what if?

She grabbed her hoodie and Buster's leash. They needed air.

The park was empty except for the swings, creaking in the wind like they knew secrets. That's when she saw him—Liam, Jordan's ex, standing by the fountain like some modern-day sphinx surrounded by riddles instead of stone.

"You got my message," he said.

"Are you spying on me?" Maya demanded, hands shaking.

Liam laughed bitterly. "Spying? No. Saving you."

He explained everything—how Jordan had been taking screenshots of private messages, how half the grade was in on it, how they'd been planning to expose Maya's secret journal entries she'd trusted Sasha with last month. The riddle wasn't about fitting in. It was about who'd actually had her back.

"Why tell me?"

"Because," Liam said, "Buster used to be my dog. Before my parents divorced. I gave him to you guys because I knew you'd love him better."

Maya looked down at the golden retriever who'd been her constant through freshman anxiety, first heartbreak, and now this revelation.

"Thanks," she said, meaning everything.

"Don't thank me," Liam called as he walked away. "Just be careful who you trust. Not everyone's like him."

Buster looked up with that goofy grin, and Maya realized she'd been looking for belonging in all the wrong places. Her sphinx wasn't a riddle to solve—it was the simple truth she'd known all along.

Some dogs really do know everything.