The Orange Hour at the Pool

Elena arranged her vitamins in a neat row on the marble counter—D for the bone-deep fatigue, B-complex for the fraying edges, magnesium for the trembling in her hands. The corporate retreat in Marbella was supposed to be luxury, but all she felt was the underwater pressure of expectations.

The infinity pool overlooked the Mediterranean, its surface blinding at noon, now softening into something forgiving. By the bar, a waiter arranged orange slices on the rim of a gin and tonic, the flesh translucent against the glass.

She'd met him at the padel court two days ago. Julian. His backhand was vicious, precise, and so was his conversation. "Your team's working on the quantum encryption project?" he'd asked between volleys, sweat making his shirt cling. "Heard there are breakthroughs."

Too specific. Elena had smiled, slammed the ball into the corner. "Corporate hearsay."

But the question lingered like the scent of orange blossoms in the evening air. Was he competition? A headhunter? Her company had spies—everyone did now. Information warfare, they called it. She called it exhausting.

By the pool at sunset, the water turned liquid copper. Julian found her there, nursing a sparkling water she didn't want. "You're good," he said, sitting too close. "At padel. At deflection."

The air grew thick. "What do you want?"

"Answers." His voice dropped. "Your board hired me. They think someone's leaking the encryption specs to regulators."

Elena's pulse kicked. She arranged her face into curiosity. "That's absurd."

"Is it?" He watched her. "I've been following your vitamin schedule. Same time, same order, every day. People with nothing to hide don't need that much structure."

The accusation hung there. She stood, legs steady despite the tremor in her chest. "Check your sources. My supplements are for stress this job generates."

"Is that all?"

She walked away without answering.

In her room, she counted tomorrow's vitamins into her palm—eight pills in a ritual of control. The D tablet caught the last light, small and white and absolute.

She was the leak. Six months of encrypted emails to EU regulators, passing evidence that the quantum encryption project violated every privacy law in Europe. The vitamins, the padel, the meticulous performance—it was all camouflage. Cover for the spy in their midst.

Her phone lit the darkened room. Breaking news: EU regulators opening formal investigation into her company's encryption practices.

Elena swallowed the handful of vitamins dry, waited for them to dissolve into something like courage. Tomorrow, the padel court would still be there. But this time, she'd finally play without keeping anything in reserve.