The Vitamin Deficiency

Marcus had been a corporate spy for seventeen years, specializing in infiltrating pharmaceutical companies. He knew how to blend in, how to make friends at the water cooler, how to steal research data from unlocked laptops. But at forty-three, his body was starting to betray him.

The doctor's words echoed in his mind: "Severe vitamin D deficiency. You're not getting enough sunlight, Marcus. You're rotting from the inside."

He stood in his Target apartment, staring at the amber bottle of vitamin supplements on his counter. Tomorrow he'd start a three-month assignment in Miami, posing as a sales representative for a competitor. His handler had assured him it would be easy—in and out, no complications. But Marcus knew better. There were always complications.

His phone buzzed. Elena.

"Are you coming to dinner?" she asked. "Your mother's been asking about you."

"I can't, El. Work."

"You always say work. What are you really doing, Marcus?"

He hesitated. They'd grown apart over the past year, ever since she'd found the hidden bank account. He'd told her it was for safety, for emergencies. She hadn't believed him.

"I'll call you when I can."

"You always say that too."

She hung up.

Marcus walked to his balcony and rested his palm against the warm glass. The sunset painted the sky in bruises of purple and red. Tomorrow he'd fly to Miami, steal another company's research, betray more people who thought he was their friend. He'd take his vitamins in the morning, and they'd make him feel better, but they wouldn't fix what was broken inside.

He wondered what the palm reader at the carnival had seen when she'd traced his lifeline three months ago. She'd paused, fingers trembling, and refused payment.

"Some endings aren't written yet," she'd whispered.

Marcus realized then that she was wrong. His ending had been written long ago—in every stolen file, every lie, every person who'd learned not to trust him. The vitamins might keep him alive, but they couldn't give him something worth living for.