The Company We Keep

The email arrived at 2 AM — a corporate security notification with subject line: 'Internal Investigation Notice.' Elena's hands trembled as she opened it, her golden retriever, Barnaby, pressing his warm weight against her leg. He was the only living thing who'd never asked anything from her.

Three years she'd given to Synaptic Solutions. Sixty-hour weeks, missed family holidays, the gradual erosion of everything she once loved. All for what? The email named a mole — someone leaking proprietary algorithms to their biggest competitor. And the evidence pointed to her.

Barnaby whined, nudging her hand with his wet nose. In the kitchen, her phone lit up with a message from Marcus: 'You okay? Heard about the audit.' Marcus, who'd been her first friend in the city. Marcus, who'd covered for her when her mother died. Marcus, with the shared encryption keys and after-work drinks.

She remembered last Tuesday — how he'd lingered by her desk as she unlocked her laptop, how he'd asked oddly specific questions about the neural network architecture. The pieces crystallized with brutal clarity. He wasn't just using her. He was the spy.

The betrayal hollowed her out more than the termination would. Because she'd never really had a friend here — not at Synaptic, not in this city of smiling predators disguised as colleagues. Barnaby licked the tears from her cheek, his unconditional devotion almost painful in its purity.

Elena forwarded the security logs to legal, exposing Marcus's access timestamps. Then she packed her box, checked the job postings, and took Barnaby for a long walk along the harbor. The city lights blurred against her wet eyelashes.

Somewhere, Marcus was probably crafting another sob story for his next friend. Elena didn't care. She had Barnaby, she had her dignity, and tomorrow she'd start over. Alone, finally, was better than false company.