What the Sphinx Knows

The betting pool had reached four thousand dollars. Maya's coworkers in the advertising department were taking wagers on when their creative director, Marcus—known company-wide as 'the Sphinx' for his inscrutable expressions and penchant for asking riddles instead of giving feedback—would finally crack. The office fantasy football league had nothing on this.

Maya sat alone at the resort bar, Marcus's farewell party fading into distant laughter behind her. He was leaving for a competitor. No one knew why. The Sphinx had given no hints.

'You're not with them.' The voice came from beside her. A man in his fifties, silver-haired, with the kind of face that suggested he'd seen every version of disappointment life offered.

'Marcus,' she said, surprised. 'I didn't think you knew my name.'

'I know everyone's name.' He signaled the bartender. 'Two papaya margaritas. Extra pepper on the rim.'

'How did you know—'

'You ordered it at the Christmas party. Three years running.' He swirled his glass when it arrived. 'The Sphinx knows everything, Maya. That's the problem. Knowing everything and being able to say almost none of it.'

She looked at him differently. 'Why are you really leaving?'

'My wife has early-onset Alzheimer's. She's fifty-three.' The words hung there, brutal and quiet. 'I need to be present. The agency—the constant churn of campaigns and clients and this...' He gestured toward his drink. 'This noise. I can't do it anymore. But I couldn't tell them. The moment I say it out loud, it becomes real in a way it isn't when I just think it.'

Maya felt something hollow open inside her. 'The betting pool,' she said softly. 'We all thought... we made it a game.'

'I know.' He finished his drink. 'I started the rumor about the competitor. It was easier than the truth.' He stood up. 'Don't feel guilty, Maya. Sometimes we need mysteries to survive. Sphinxes protect themselves by staying silent.' He placed a hand on her shoulder, briefly. 'Cancel the pool. Donate it to the Alzheimer's Association.'

She watched him walk away, a man carrying a truth too heavy to speak aloud. The papaya drink sat untouched before her, suddenly bittersweet. Tomorrow, she would cancel the pool. Tomorrow, she would be kinder. But tonight, she sat with the Sphinx's secret, understanding for the first time that some riddles have answers no one wants to hear.