Steph and Ethan sat hunched over the monitors, their eyes scanning the grainy footage for any trace of Mara. The tension in the room was thick, suffocating. The cameras showed her last movement—heading toward the washroom—and then nothing. No sign of her exiting, no hint of where she might have gone. It was as if she had vanished into thin air.
Ethan slammed his fist on the desk, frustration boiling over. "The earth couldn't have just swallowed her!" he yelled, his voice cracking under the weight of his desperation. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as if the physical pain might distract him from the gnawing fear in his chest.
Steph leaned back in his chair, his tone calm but edged with exhaustion. "Maybe she just left," he suggested, though the words felt hollow even as he said them.
