The door creaked open, and Emily stood there, her hand still on the knob, her eyes wide as she took in the scene. Mark and Anushka were still close, Anushka's arms loosely around Mark, his head resting lightly on her shoulder. For a moment, no one moved.
Then Emily cleared her throat. "Uh… sorry," she stammered, taking a step back. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
Mark straightened up quickly, running a hand through his hair as if to compose himself. Anushka stepped back too, smoothing her shirt and offering Emily a small, reassuring smile. "You're not interrupting anything," she said, her voice calm. "We were just… talking."
Emily's eyes flicked between them, her expression a mix of curiosity and something else—something sharper. Suspicion, maybe. But she didn't press it. Instead, she leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. "Right. Talking. Got it."
Mark shot her a look, his tone dry but not unkind. "What do you want, Em?"
Emily shrugged, though her gaze lingered on Anushka for a beat too long. "I was just wondering if you'd made any progress with Dr. Otim's phone. You know, the whole… mystery thing."
Mark exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, we've got something. Come in."
Emily stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She perched on the edge of Mark's bed, her eyes darting to the laptop still open on the desk. "So? What's the deal?"
Anushka took the lead, her tone professional but friendly. "We've gone through the call logs and messages. There's a number that's been calling him repeatedly, but he never answers. Could be a burner, or someone he's avoiding. Either way, it's suspicious."
Emily raised an eyebrow. "A burner? Like, spy-level stuff?"
"Maybe," Mark said, leaning back in his chair. "But it's not just that. There are also transfers—large sums of money going into his account in small, calculated intervals. No explanation, no names. Just numbers."
Emily whistled softly. "Sounds shady. What's he into?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Anushka replied. "We've got remote access to his phone now, so we can monitor it in real time. If anything new pops up, we'll know."
Emily nodded, her expression thoughtful. "And you think this is connected to… Alice?"
Mark's jaw tightened, but he didn't answer right away. Instead, he exchanged a quick glance with Anushka, who gave a slight nod. "We don't know yet," Mark said finally. "But it's a lead. And right now, it's all we've got."
Emily studied them for a moment, her gaze sharp and calculating. Then she shrugged, standing up. "Alright. Keep me in the loop, yeah? If this turns into something big, I want to know."
"Of course," Mark said, his tone softening. "You'll be the first to know."
Emily gave a small nod, her eyes lingering on Anushka for a moment longer before she turned to leave. But as she reached the door, she paused, glancing back over her shoulder. "Oh, and… next time, maybe lock the door if you're gonna be… talking."
Mark rolled his eyes, but Anushka laughed—a light, genuine sound that seemed to ease the tension in the room. "Noted," she said, her tone playful.
Emily smirked and slipped out, closing the door behind her.
For a moment, the room was quiet again. Then Mark sighed, running a hand over his face. "She's never gonna let that go."
Anushka chuckled, leaning against the desk. "She's your sister. It's her job to give you a hard time."
Mark shot her a look, but there was no real annoyance in it. "Yeah, well, she's too good at it. Always playing big sister."
Anushka smiled, her gaze softening. "For what it's worth… I think she's just looking out for you."
Mark didn't respond right away. Instead, he looked at her, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded, his voice quiet. "Yeah. She is."
"So," she said after a moment, her tone light but probing, "why are you so invested in this? Dr. Otim's phone, the money transfers, the mystery number… it's not just curiosity, is it?"
Mark hesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit I'd seen him do a thousand times before. "It's… complicated," he said finally, his voice low.
Anushka tilted her head, studying him. "Try me."
He let out a slow breath, his shoulders tense. For a moment, I thought he might shut down, and retreat into that quiet, guarded version of himself he showed to most people. But then he looked at her, and something in his expression softened.
"I think my mom's death wasn't… natural," he said, the words coming out in a rush like he'd been holding them in for too long. "I think someone had something to do with it. And I think Dr. Otim might know more than he's letting on."
Anushka's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't interrupt. Instead, she waited, giving him the space to continue.
Mark stood up, pacing the room as he spoke. "She was healthy, Ruhi. Like, really healthy. She ate right, exercised, never smoked, barely drank. And then one day, she just… collapsed. Out of nowhere. The doctors said it was some kind of cancer, but it didn't make sense. None of it made sense."
He stopped by the window, staring out at the garden below. His voice was quieter now, almost like he was talking more to himself than to her. "I didn't want to believe it at first. I mean, how could I? She was my mom. She was supposed to be invincible. But the more I thought about it, the more it didn't add up. And then I started noticing things—little things. Like how Dr. Otim was always around before she died. How he'd visit her at odd hours, always looking over his shoulder. And after she was gone, he just… disappeared."
Anushka's brow furrowed as she listened, her arms uncrossing as she stepped closer to him. "Mark… that's… a lot to carry on your own. Why didn't you say anything before?"
He turned to face her, his expression a mix of frustration and pain. "Because what was I supposed to say? 'Hey, everyone, I think Mom was murdered, and I have no proof'? They'd think I was crazy. Hell, sometimes I think I'm crazy."
Anushka reached out, placing a hand on his arm. Her touch was gentle but firm, grounding him. "You're not crazy," she said softly. "And you're not alone. Not anymore."
Mark looked at her, his eyes searching hers. For a moment, he seemed to waver, like he was deciding whether to let her in fully or pull away. Then he sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I just… I need to know the truth. For her. For me. For all of us."
Anushka nodded, her expression serious but kind. "Then we'll find it. Together."
Mark's lips curved into a faint, grateful smile. "You don't have to do this, you know. It's not your fight."
"Maybe not," she said, shrugging. "But you're my friend. And if there's even a chance someone hurt your mom, I want to help you make it right."
Mark's smile deepened, and for the first time since the conversation started, some of the tension seemed to leave his body. "Thanks, Ruhi. I mean it."
Anushka grinned, giving his arm a playful nudge. "Don't mention it. But just so you know, if this turns into some kind of spy thriller, I'm totally calling dibs on being the tech genius."
Mark chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Deal. But only if I get to be the brooding hero."
"Oh, please," Anushka said, rolling her eyes. "You're already the brooding hero. You don't get to claim it."