The Bear in the Conference Room

Elena found the dog first—a golden retriever mix shivering beside the dumpster behind their office building. At 3 AM, with the rain sheeting down, it seemed like the only honest thing in her life. She named him Marcus, after her ex-husband, because he had the same desperate need for attention and equally questionable judgment.

The corporate spy had been operating in their midst for six months. Elena knew this because she'd been the one feeding him information—nothing critical, just enough to keep him satisfied. Leo from accounting with his too-perfect suits and endless questions about product pipelines. She'd told herself it was harmless, a way to feel powerful after her divorce left her feeling like a hollowed-out building. But then she found the USB drive in Marcus's—no, the dog's—bedding, wrapped in a plastic bag with a note: *Payment rendered.*

The bear came later. Not a metaphorical one, though God knew she'd been bearing more than her share of those. This was a taxidermy grizzly, mounted mid-roar, that appeared in the CEO's conference room the morning after the whistleblower report dropped. Someone had wheeled it in on a dolly, positioned it to appear as if it were charging toward the head of the table where Elena usually sat during board meetings.

'Terror management,' the CEO said, cracking a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 'Keep us sharp.'

But Elena saw it for what it was: a warning. The spy hadn't been Leo. She'd been played from the start, a double-cross within a double-cross. The USB drive contained footage of her passing files, careful and deliberate in the empty office at midnight. Marcus the dog had been the courier, his nightly walks around the building not aimless wanderings but scheduled pickups. Her ex-husband had always said she was too sentimental for corporate warfare.

That night, she sat on her balcony with the dog pressed against her leg, watching the city lights blur through her tears. She'd bear the consequences, of course. She always did. But as the dog lifted his head to study her with those guileless amber eyes, she made a decision. Some things—the loyalty of a dog, the taste of good whiskey, the satisfaction of turning the tables—were worth the fall.