The Riddle at Midnight

The gallery was empty except for the two of them, and the marble sphinx watching from its pedestal with that eternal, inscrutable smile. Elena's orange silk dress—same color she'd worn the night they met—clung to her like something she was trying to escape from.

'You're going to take the fellowship,' Marcus said. It wasn't a question.

She pressed her palm against the cold glass of the goldfish tank. Inside, a single fantail floated in suspended animation, its translucent fins catching the gallery's security lights. 'Four months in Cairo. The restoration project.' She turned to face him. 'It's everything.'

'And we're what?' His voice cracked on the word.

The sphinx had guarded its secrets for four thousand years. Elena and Marcus had managed eighteen months before the riddles began. The unasked questions piling up like sand in an hourglass. Career or love. Ambition or comfort. The ancient choices dressed in modern clothes.

She crossed the room to him, her heels echoing on the polished floor. 'I asked for the sign,' she said softly. 'Remember? If we were supposed to fight for this, for us—give me a sign.' She gestured vaguely at the room. 'Nothing. The universe doesn't care about our relationship, Marcus.'

'The fish,' he said.

'What?'

'The goldfish. Look.' He pointed. The fish had swum to the front of the tank, pressing its mouth against the glass in a perfect 'O', over and over, like it was trying to speak.

Elena laughed, a broken, desperate sound. 'That's not a sign. That's a fish that thinks it's time to eat.'

'Maybe that's the point,' Marcus said, stepping closer. 'Maybe signs don't come from the universe. Maybe they come from the people who are hungry enough to make them.' He took her hand. 'I'm hungry, El. For this. For us.'

The sphinx smiled on, indifferent to human heartbreak. The goldfish continued its endless loop against the glass. Elena looked at Marcus—really looked—and saw something she hadn't allowed herself to see before. The way his shoulders had dropped, the way his eyes had lost their light since she'd received the offer letter.

'Feed the fish,' she said.

'What?'

'If it's hungry, feed it. And then let's go home. I'll cable them in the morning.' She squeezed his hand. 'Sometimes the riddle's answer is just: stay.'

Outside, the orange glow of dawn was beginning to paint the sky. Behind them, the sphinx kept its secrets. Some things, it seemed, would remain永远 unsolved. And maybe that was alright.