17 Weeks.

Seventeen weeks. That's how long it had been since Mark disappeared. Seventeen weeks of unanswered questions, sleepless nights, and a growing sense of helplessness. The Bendilani family had done everything they could—filed police reports, hired private investigators, and plastered Mark's face on every announcement board and social media platform they could find. But nothing had worked. Mark was gone, and so was Dr. Otim. It was as if they had vanished into thin air.

The family had tried to hold onto hope, but as the weeks turned into months, that hope began to fade. Everyone was struggling in their own way, but no one wanted to say it out loud. Not until that night at supper.

The dining table was quieter than usual, the usual lively chatter replaced by the clinking of cutlery and the occasional forced comment. Dad sat at the head of the table, his expression stoic but his eyes betraying the weight of his worry. Grandpa was at his usual spot, his usual gruff demeanor softened by the grief of losing his daughter and now the uncertainty of his grandson's fate. Monica sat quietly, her calm exterior masking the storm of emotions beneath. Emily and Jacqueline exchanged worried glances, while Jerry tried to lighten the mood with a joke that fell flat.

I sat at the end of the table, pushing my food around my plate. I couldn't take the silence anymore. "I miss Mark," I said, my voice small but cutting through the quiet like a knife.

The table froze, and everyone turned to look at me. For a moment, no one spoke. Then Dad sighed, his shoulders slumping. "We all do, Dorcas. We all do."

Emily reached over, squeezing my hand. "He's out there somewhere. We just have to keep believing that."

But her words felt hollow, even to me. The truth was, we were all starting to lose hope. We had already lost Mom, and the thought of losing Mark too was unbearable. But as the weeks dragged on, it felt like we were being forced to accept the unthinkable—that Mark might never come home.

While the rest of the family tried to move forward, Anushka refused to give up. Mark's disappearance had only made her love for him grow stronger, fueling her determination to find him. She had spent countless hours and big fortunes on private investigators, but every lead had turned into a dead end. Still, she couldn't stop. She wouldn't stop.

She had tried everything—tracking Mark's phone, hacking into Dr. Otim's phone, even digging into old records and surveillance footage. But it was all in vain. Mark was gone, and no amount of effort seemed to bring her closer to finding him.

The weight of it all had taken its toll. Anushka had stopped going to work, retreating into her apartment and shutting out the world. She barely ate, barely slept, and spent most of her days staring at her computer screens, searching for any clue that might lead her to Mark.

One evening, Jacqueline and Emily decided they couldn't let Anushka continue like this. They had tried calling her and texting her, but she hadn't responded. So, armed with directions, they made their way to Anushka's apartment.

When they arrived, they knocked on the door, their hearts sinking at the sound of silence from inside. After a few moments, they heard footsteps, and the door creaked open to reveal Anushka. She looked exhausted, her eyes red and swollen from crying, her hair disheveled, and her clothes wrinkled.

"Anushka," Jacqueline said softly, her voice filled with concern. "We've been so worried about you."

Anushka blinked, her expression blank for a moment before she stepped aside to let them in. The apartment was a mess—papers and empty coffee cups scattered everywhere, her computer screens glowing with lines of code and maps.

Emily's eyes widened as she took in the scene. "Anushka… what is all this?"

Anushka didn't answer right away. She just stood there, her arms wrapped around herself as if trying to hold herself together. Finally, she whispered, "I can't stop. I can't… I have to find him."

Jacqueline stepped forward, placing a hand on Anushka's shoulder. "We know. And we're here to help. But you can't do this alone. You're killing yourself, Anushka."

Anushka shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I can't give up. Not on him. Not after everything."

Emily's eyes filled with tears as she pulled Anushka into a hug. "You don't have to give up. But you can't keep going like this. You're not just hurting yourself—you're hurting us too. We care about you, Anushka. We need you."

Anushka broke down then, her sobs shaking her entire body as she clung to Emily. Jacqueline joined the hug, the three of them standing there in the middle of the messy apartment, united by their shared grief and determination.

After what felt like hours, Anushka finally pulled away, wiping her tears with shaky hands. "I… I don't know what to do," she admitted, her voice breaking.

Jacqueline took a deep breath, her tone gentle but firm. "You have to come back to work. Cyber Genesis needs you, Anushka. Now more than ever. Mark… Mark would want you to keep going. To take care of the company he loved."

Anushka hesitated, her gaze flicking to her computer screens. "But what if he's out there? What if he needs me?"

Emily squeezed her hand, her voice steady. "We'll keep looking. Together. But you can't do it from here. You need to be strong, Anushka. For Mark. For all of us."

Anushka looked at them, her heart swelling with gratitude and guilt. She knew they were right. She couldn't keep hiding away, drowning in her grief. Mark wouldn't want that. And neither would the family that had welcomed her as one of their own.

Finally, she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Okay. I'll come back."

-------

The next morning, Anushka walked into Cyber Genesis for the first time in weeks. Everyone was happy to see her after so long, Janice being the happiest. The office felt different without Mark—quieter, emptier. But as she sat down at her desk, she felt a flicker of determination. She would keep searching for Mark, but she would also honor him by stepping into his shoes and leading the company he had worked so hard to maintain.

As she opened her laptop, her eyes fell on a framed photo on her desk—a picture of her and Mark, taken during one of their late-night work sessions. She smiled faintly, her heart aching but also filled with resolve.

"I'll find you, Mark," she whispered. "No matter what it takes."