Riddles in the Storm

Maya's iPhone buzzed for the third time in five minutes. Instagram stories, TikTok notifications, a text from her mom asking if she'd eaten anything today. The constant digital hum was exhausting, but she couldn't look away. Not when Leo had posted a story fifteen minutes ago.

"You're literally addicted," said Zara, sprawled across Maya's bed while flicking through a magazine. "It's giving 'needing an intervention.'"

"Shut up," Maya muttered, but she locked her phone anyway. Outside, the sky had turned that bruised purple color that meant thunder was coming. Perfect weather for doing absolutely nothing.

They were supposed to be studying for finals. Instead, Zara had discovered this ancient-looking book in her grandma's attic – leather-bound, pages yellowed, filled with drawings of mythological creatures. She'd been reading riddles from it for an hour.

"Okay, here's one," Zara said, sitting up. "What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?"

"Seriously? That's the Sphinx riddle from Greek mythology," Maya rolled her eyes. "Man. Oedipus solved it. We learned this in Mr. Harrison's class last semester."

"But really think about it," Zara persisted. "Like, actually think. Morning, noon, evening – what does that mean for us? We're in the morning phase of everything, you know? Everything's ahead."

Maya didn't want to think about phases and time and everything ahead. She just wanted to know if Leo's story was about her.

CRASH.

The sound was so loud they both jumped. Lightning had struck somewhere close – the room flared white, then plunged into darkness. The power was out.

"Oh my god," Zara said. "My phone's at 12%."

"Mine's at 8%." Maya's stomach dropped. No power meant no WiFi, no charging, no way to check Leo's story or see if he'd respond to her text from earlier.

They sat in the gathering gloom as rain hammered against the window. Without the constant feed of notifications, Maya's thoughts unspooled. The Sphinx's riddle kept circling in her head. Four legs, two legs, three legs. Baby, adult, elder. But there was something Zara had said – about them being in the morning phase.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room, and Maya saw herself in the mirror – phone glowing in her hand like some digital anchor, like she was terrified of what happened when she let go.

"You know," Maya said slowly, "maybe the real riddle isn't about growing old. Maybe it's about growing up. Like, learning to walk on your own two legs without needing something to hold onto."

Zara was quiet for a moment. "Deep. Also lowkey profound for someone who's been doom-scrolling for three hours."

"Shut up."

"But you're right," Zara said. "We're all on four legs right now. Crawling through everything, waiting for someone else to carry us."

The storm raged outside, but inside, something had shifted. Maya typed a quick text to Leo before her battery died completely: "Hey. Want to hang out tomorrow? Just us. No phones."

She pressed send, then powered down.

"The Sphinx would be proud," Zara said in the darkness.

Maya's phone was dead. She couldn't check Leo's response. But for the first time in forever, she didn't mind waiting.