The Riddle of Silent Screens

The office resembled an Egyptian tomb at 3 AM—rows of dark monitors like sarcophagi in a museum. Elena pressed her thumb to her iPhone, but the screen remained black, as dead as her marriage. The sphinx of a partner—senior analyst Marcus—had stopped returning her calls three days ago.

She swallowed the vitamin D supplement her doctor prescribed for "corporate malaise." A placebo for the soul, really. Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass, a bear market roared its disapproval. Her portfolio—like everything else in her life—had been halved since the separation.

The email dinged. Marcus, finally.

"We need to talk about the Cairo project."

She remembered their first encounter at the company retreat. Drunk on expensive scotch, he'd quoted riddles about what walks on four legs then two then more. She'd laughed, pressed against him in the hotel bar, his wedding ring cool against her flushed cheek. Now she understood the riddle's third phase: the walking stick of loneliness.

Her iPhone lit up with a text from David: "Signing papers tomorrow. Can I come by Saturday for my books?"

Elena stared at the screen. The bear of a man she'd married for seven years. He'd wanted children; she'd wanted partnership. They'd gotten neither. Instead, they'd accumulated furniture and resentment in equal measure.

Marcus appeared in her doorway, holding two paper cups of coffee. "You're still here."

"Nowhere else to be."

He set the coffee on her desk. His fingers lingered near hers. "The Cairo deal falls apart if we don't sign by Friday."

"And if it does?"

"Then we're both looking for work."

He didn't say: *And I'm still married.* He didn't say: *And you're leaving yours.* The sphinx kept his riddles to himself.

"David texted," she said. "He's coming Saturday."

Marcus nodded, once. "I'll pick up the vitamins from the pharmacy on my way home. Your prescription."

She watched him walk away, his silhouette retreating down the hallway of tombs. The bear market outside the window growled lower now, almost gentle. Her iPhone screen faded to black again, and for the first time in months, Elena didn't reach for it.