The Sphinx of Miller's Ridge

Jordan's bike chain rattled against the frame as he climbed the gravel path toward Miller's Ridge. The abandoned cable station loomed ahead—a crumbling concrete beast from the nineties, its rusted antenna cables sagging like dead electrical vines.

"You're slow," Maya called back, already perched on the station's roof. She'd beaten him here again. Jordan hated how she made everything look effortless, even sneaking out at midnight.

"Some of us value our kneecaps," he panted, hauling himself up the rusted ladder.

Maya rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Come look at this."

She led him to a maintenance room where someone had spray-painted a sphinx across the back wall—lion body, human face, wings partially obscured by peeling paint. But someone had added graffiti speech bubble: *ASK ME A RIDDLE*.

"Okay," Jordan said. "That's oddly specific."

"It's a sign," Maya insisted, but her voice wavered.

Jordan knew that tone. Last week at lunch, she'd mentioned her mom was dating again. Before that, it was colleges three states away. The unspoken stuff—the real stuff—always came out here, in the dark, surrounded by rusted cables and sphinxes with attitude problems.

"What's going on?" he asked softly.

Maya picked at a flake of paint. "Katie saw me at Trey's party Friday. She told everyone I was hooking up with him."

"Were you?"

"No! I was literally getting him ice because he's a lightweight who can't hold his liquor." She kicked at a cable on the floor. "But everyone believes her because Katie's got that whole innocent act. Meanwhile I'm the—" she waved her hands "—bull in the china shop or whatever."

Jordan thought about how Katie had smiled at him yesterday, all teeth and Performative Friendliness. How she'd somehow known exactly which classroom he'd be in front of.

"Wait," Jordan said slowly. "How'd Katie know you were even at Trey's? You said you were trying to be low-key about it."

Maya froze.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Unless she was..."

"Spying on you?" Jordan finished.

The sphinx seemed to smirk at them.

"That's psycho," Maya said, but she looked terrified. "What do I even do?"

Jordan thought about what his brother would say—something about how high school girls were all secretly at war with each other, how it wasn't worth the drama. But that felt wrong. Maya wasn't drama. She was just... alone in it.

"We figure it out," he said. "Together. Like—we document it. If she's stalking you, we catch her. Then we go to Mr. Harrison."

Maya's shoulders dropped. "You'd help me? I thought you'd say it's just girl drama."

"Dude," Jordan said. "You're my friend. Also, I'm pretty sure harassment is literally against the student code of conduct, regardless of gender."

Maya snorted. "Nerd."

"Takes one to know one."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the neighborhood lights flicker on below. The abandoned cable station felt less like a ruin and more like a fortress—someplace they could figure out the riddles together, sphinx-style, before they got eaten alive.

"Hey, Jordan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For not saying I'm being dramatic."

He bumped her shoulder with his. "No problem. But if we start a detective club, I'm definitely the lead."

Maya laughed, really laughed, for the first time all night. The sphinx's painted smile seemed a little less ironic now.