The Sphinx at Midnight

Maya's lungs burned as she kept **running**, her sneakers slapping against the pavement. 3 AM. The only time her brain actually shut up. Coach Reynolds said she had potential, but Maya knew the truth: she was fast because she was always running away from something.

Tonight it was the **bull**—Tyler, who'd decided her sophomore year would be his personal terror campaign. "Nice outfit, loser," he'd shouted at lunch while his friends laughed. Maya had pretended not to hear, but her face burned hot anyway.

She slowed near the old Henderson place, where a concrete **sphinx** statue guarded the overgrown lawn. Some neighborhood legend said if you whispered your secret to it at midnight, it would help you find your answer. Corny, right? But Maya was desperate.

A **cat**—a ragged orange tabby—sat on the sphinx's head, tail flicking like it owned the place. Maya stopped, breathing hard. The cat stared at her with ancient knowing eyes.

"You too, huh?" she whispered.

"Cute."

Maya jumped. A girl stepped out from behind the sphinx—Leah, the junior who sat behind her in history. The one everyone called **fox** because she was cunning, unreadable, impossibly cool. Leah who never spoke to anyone.

"You come here too?" Maya asked, heart racing for a whole new reason.

Leah shrugged, tossing her hair. "Sometimes. When Tyler Williams is being Tyler Williams."

Maya froze. "You know about that?"

"Everyone knows. No one says anything." Leah stepped closer. "We should, though. Together."

The orange cat purred. The sphinx watched, silent and eternal.

"Tomorrow," Maya said, surprising herself. "We stand up to him. Together."

Leah smiled—really smiled, not her usual smirk. "Bet."

As they walked home, Maya realized she'd stopped running. Not from Tyler, not from herself. Some sphinx riddles didn't need answers. They just needed someone to help you ask the right questions.