Sphinx at the Company Pool

The corporate retreat's pool shimmered like liquid mercury under the desert sun. Elena adjusted her wide-brimmed hat, pulling it lower like armor. She'd come here to hide, not to swim.

"Elena?"

The voice belonged to Marcus. Her former friend. The man who'd stolen her promotion six months ago.

"Marcus." She kept her tone flat, professional. "I didn't expect to see you here."

He sat beside her on the lounge chair, too close. "We should talk."

"About how you took the project I built from scratch? About how you presented my work as yours?"

"It wasn't like that."

"It was exactly like that."

A sphinx moth fluttered between them, its wings catching golden light. It hovered near Marcus's ear, delicate yet persistent.

He laughed bitterly. "Remember that riddle you used to ask? What creature walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon, three in evening?"

"The Sphinx's riddle. Man." She finally looked at him. "We're not friends anymore, Marcus. Whatever we had — you killed it when you chose ambition over integrity."

The moth landed on his shoulder. He brushed it away without noticing.

"I'm leaving the company," he said quietly. "Cancer. Three months."

Elena's response died in her throat. The pool's surface rippled in the wind. She adjusted her hat again, but this time it wasn't armor — it was something to hide the sudden wetness in her eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because after what I did, I didn't think I had the right to call you friend."

The sphinx moth returned, circling them both now, carrying something fragile between its wings — maybe forgiveness, maybe just the inevitability of endings.

"You don't," she said. "But you might have the right to ask for something else."