The Last Drop

Elena ran her finger along the condensation on her glass, watching the water bead and trace gravity's path down to the cocktail napkin. Across from her, Marcus was saying something about quarterly projections, but she wasn't listening. She was thinking about the email she'd intercepted that morning.

"You're a terrible spy," Marcus said, catching her staring past his shoulder. "You've been checking the door every five minutes since we sat down."

She flinched. "I'm not checking anything."

"Right." He signaled the waiter. "That's why you showed up forty minutes late, why you're drinking your gin straight, and why you look like you haven't slept since Tuesday."

Elena had discovered it three days ago: Marcus, her oldest friend, the person who'd held her hair back when she was sick at twenty-two, who'd cried with her when her mother died—Marcus had been selling her research to their biggest competitor for eighteen months. Each proprietary algorithm, each breakthrough, each late night she'd spent bent over her laptop while he brought her coffee. All of it, packaged and sold.

"Marcus," she said, and her voice surprised her with its steadiness. "Do you remember that time we went to the lake? When we were twenty-three and you almost drowned?"

He paused, his glass halfway to his lips. "That's random."

"I pulled you out. You went under, and I grabbed your shirt and hauled you back to the dock. You coughed up half the lake and said you owed me your life."

"Elena..."

"I've been thinking about that day a lot lately." She watched the water droplets on her glass merge into larger ones, sliding faster now. "About how easy it would have been to let go. To just... let the water take you."

Marcus set down his drink. His expression changed—something shifting behind his eyes, recognition maybe, or regret. "Elena, I can explain."

"No need." She stood up, leaving her full glass on the table. "I just needed to know if there was ever a time when you wouldn't have sold me out too."

She walked out into the rain, letting the water wash over her, feeling cleaner than she had in months. Behind her, Marcus called her name, but she kept walking.