The Sphinx of Sector 7

The corporate **pyramid** rose 40 floors above Chicago, its glass facade reflecting a sky the color of old bruises. Elena adjusted her **hat**—a vintage fedora she'd bought on a whim—and stepped through the revolving doors into the air-conditioned tomb.

She couldn't **bear** another Monday like this. Not after what she'd found.

The elevator ride to the 37th floor felt like ascending to the gallows. That's where Marcus Chen kept his office, where the **sphinx** of their division presided over his court of junior executives, asking riddles that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with power.

"You're wearing the hat again," Sarah whispered as Elena passed her desk. Her friend's eyes were wide, frightened. "Did you hear about David?"

Elena's stomach tightened. David from Accounting, who'd questioned the Q3 projections during the last town hall. He'd been escorted out Friday afternoon, carrying a box of personal items while security watched like hawks.

"What about him?" Elena asked, though she already knew.

"Gone. Just... gone. His wife called me this morning. She said he'd been meeting with Chen, asking questions. About the pyramid scheme Elena—about the way they're moving money between funds. She hasn't heard from him since Friday night."

The fedora suddenly felt heavy, a crown of thorns against her scalp. Elena had found the same irregularities David had. She'd been preparing the report, the one that would expose everything, when she'd discovered her own name on the approval chain. She'd signed off on the transfers, unaware, trusting—exactly what they'd needed.

Chen's door stood open. He was waiting, his face impassive as stone, dark eyes watching her approach.

"Miss Torres," he said, not looking up from his desk. "I understand you had questions about the Q3 allocations."

Elena's hand trembled as she reached into her bag. She could feel the weight of everyone watching from the cubicles beyond the glass walls—Sarah, and the others, and David's empty desk.

"No questions," she said, placing her resignation letter on his mahogany altar. "Just answers."

The sphinx smiled.