The Goldfish in the Glass Bowl

The goldfish circled its bowl endlessly, orange scales flashing in the fluorescent office light. Sarah watched it while pretending to check her iphone, her thumb hovering over the recording app they'd given her.

Three weeks as a corporate spy, and she still felt sick every time she walked into David's office. He was the kind of boss who remembered birthdays, who kept his daughter's baseball trophy from when she was twelve displayed prominently on his desk. The trophy was partly why she'd been assigned to him – his division's new project would bury the community baseball field where his daughter still played summer leagues.

"Sarah?" David's voice from the doorway. She jumped, nearly dropping her phone.

"Sorry. Just catching up on emails."

He nodded, but his eyes stayed on her face a fraction too long. That was happening more often lately. That morning, she'd found her goldfish – the one she kept in a bowl on her desk, a gift from her sister when she moved to the city – floating upside down. She'd buried it in the office planter during lunch, feeling stupid for crying over a three-dollar pet from a carnival.

"I wanted to tell you," David said, "they're not going to demolish the field. I found another way."

Sarah's heart stopped. She'd spent weeks feeding his private emails to corporate, documenting every conversation, every compromise. She'd given them everything they needed to destroy him.

"Why?" she heard herself ask.

"Because some things matter more." He gestured to the baseball trophy, then to the empty space on her desk where the goldfish bowl usually sat. "I know about your reports to them, Sarah. I chose not to believe it until this morning, when my daughter called, crying, saying someone from the company threatened her coach.

Sarah's iphone burned in her hand. The recording app was still running.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Me too." He closed his door. Through the glass, she saw him reach for the phone on his desk, saw him make the call that would end her career in this city, maybe any city.

The goldfish had lasted three weeks. Her conscience hadn't even made it that long.