The Sphinx on the 42nd Floor

The cable snapped somewhere between floors 38 and 39. Elena pressed her forehead against the cold glass of the elevator, watching the indicator lights flicker and die. Her phone's emergency signal displayed one bar—meaningless, really. She'd already missed her daughter's violin recital. Now she'd miss everything.

"You're the new night security, aren't you?"

Elena jumped. She'd forgotten she wasn't alone. The man in the corner had been so still she'd mistaken his folded coat for abandoned property. He moved now, unfolding long limbs and dark intensity.

"Marc." He didn't offer a hand. "We've met. At the holiday party. You were the one who—"

"Got drunk and made a scene," she finished. "I remember."

"I was going to say: figured out the profit margin scheme was illegal." His voice dropped. "The sphinx riddle, Elena. The one nobody wants to solve because the answer destroys everything."

She sank to the floor. "You're the whistleblower."

"I'm the one with a dead cat on my conscience." Marc pulled a photograph from his wallet—a tabby with mismatched eyes, looking remarkably smug. "Hera. She knew something was wrong with the building plans. Kept scratching at the blueprints. died two days before the foundation cracked."

The elevator groaned. Elena's own cat, Boris, had been scratchingeing at her briefcase for weeks. She'd dismissed it as attention-seeking behavior.

"The cable." Marc gestured to the frayed wire visible through the elevator's emergency panel. "Maintenance cut corners. Just like accounting. Just like legal. The whole operation is one giant compromise waiting to collapse."

Elena's phone buzzed. Her daughter's recital had ended.

"We could radio for help," she said quietly. "Or we could talk about what you found."

Marc's smile was sharp, ancient. "Some riddles, once answered, can't be unanswered. But for what it's worth—I'm glad you're here. Better company than a sphinx."

Elena thought of Boris waiting at home, of her daughter's missed performance, of the audit she'd signed without questioning. She pressed the radio button.

"Help us," she said. "And send legal."

Marc raised an eyebrow. "Planning to join me on the unemployment line?"

"Someone has to feed the cat."