The Pyramid of Empty Rooms

Elena stared at the coaxial cable dangling from the wall like a dead snake, the only remnant of the life she'd shared with Marcus. Three years of marriage reduced to a severed connection, a dusty hole in the drywall where they'd once mounted the television together, laughing as they argued over which streaming service to choose.

She pressed her palm against the cold windowpane, feeling the phantom pressure of his hand there—the way he used to stand behind her, his chest against her back, both of them watching the streetlights flicker on. The palm reader at that tourist-trap shop in New Orleans had touched her hand too, months before she met Marcus, tracing the life line with nicotine-stained fingers.

"You'll climb high," the woman said, her eyes milky with cataracts. "But the pyramid's top is lonely air."

Elena had laughed then, twenty-three and arrogant, already eyeing the corporate ladder. Now, at thirty-seven, she stood in the corner office she'd fought tooth and nail to reach—above the pyramid, indeed—and understood exactly what the old woman meant. The senior VP position had cost her weekends, friendships, sleep, and finally, Marcus himself.

A calico cat appeared on the fire escape outside, mewing softly. This was the third night it had shown up, watching her with amber eyes that seemed to hold a judgment Elena couldn't quite read. She'd never wanted pets before. Too messy, too much responsibility when she was already drowning in it.

Tonight, though, she cracked the window. The cat slipped inside, winding between her legs with a demanding purr. Elena sank to the floor, burying her face in soft fur, inhaling the scent of rain and alleyway. The cat kneaded her thigh with sharp claws, painful and perfect and real.

"You wouldn't care about corner offices," she whispered, throat tight. "Would you?"

Her phone buzzed on the desk—an email from HR about the quarterly review, another cable tethering her to the pyramid's machinery. Elena let it buzz. Outside, the city blurred into lights and shadows. For the first time in months, she didn't think about what came next. She just stroked the cat's warm back and breathed.