The Vitamin Trade

The fox appeared at dawn every Tuesday, sleek and improbable in the corporate park's manicured gardens. Elena watched it from her office window on the 14th floor, nursing her morning coffee and the quiet dread that had become her constant companion since the layoffs began.

"You're taking those vitamins?" Marcus asked, appearing beside her. He smelled of expensive cologne and secrets. "The stress formulation?"

"They're placebos," she said, though she swallowed one daily anyway. Rituals were the only thing keeping her grounded since the merger announcements began circulating.

Marcus's hand brushed against hers—accidental, calculated, she couldn't tell anymore. Three months ago, she would have pulled away. Now she let it linger. They were both married to other people. They were both spies in this building, gathering intelligence for different masters.

"I saw something in R&D yesterday," he murmured, watching the fox trot toward the parking garage. "The new immune booster line. It's not vitamins. It's a tracking compound for beta testers."

Elena's stomach turned. "You're certain?"

"My contact in Quality confirmed it. They're calling it 'patient monitoring.'"

She thought of her husband at home, his own vitamin regimen, how he'd dismiss this as conspiracy theory. Maybe he was right. Maybe the world had always been this compromised, and she'd simply been too innocent to notice.

"What will you do?" Marcus asked.

The fox paused, looked back at the building—almost directly at their window—then disappeared into the garage shadows.

"My job," she said, though she hadn't decided which one that meant anymore.

Marcus's fingers traced her palm, almost tender. "We could be careful."

They were already being careless. That was the problem. That was the thrill and the terror and the reason she couldn't stop.

"Careful costs extra," she said, and walked away before she could make the mistake of staying.