Letting My Brother's Best Friend Take My V-Card

HARD REALITY

The cab slowed to a stop in front of an unassuming building that looked more like a small-town office than the epicenter of so much grief. I clenched my hands in my lap, my fingers. digging into my palms as I stared at the faded sign. Police Station.

Beneath it, in smaller letters, was the word I had been dreading since we landed: Mortuary.

Laura shifted beside me, her breath hitching as her hand tightened around her bag strap. I didn't look at her. If I did, I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep the tears at bay. "Ready?" she asked, her voice thin and strained.

I swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah."

The moment we stepped out of the cab, chaos descended. Reporters swarmed us like flies, their shouts overlapping until their words blurred together.

"Jessica! Laura! Can you confirm if-"

"Are the bodies identifiable-"

"Are you going to keep the baby even if your husband is dead?"

Cameras flashed, and the bright light stung my eyes. Laura flinched, her arm brushing against mine, but before either of us could say anything, the station door burst open.

A tall man in a wrinkled suit strode toward us, waving off the reporters. "Step back!" he barked, his tone sharp enough to cut through the din. He reached us in a few long strides, his expression tight and impatient.

"Detective Raynor," he said curtly ushering us toward the building. As the door swung shut behind us, muffling the noise outside, he muttered under his breath, "Vultures." I didn't respond. I wasn't sure I could.

narrow hallway. His steps were brisk and purposeful, as though

the scuffed linoleum floor. The air smelled faintly of coffee, paper, and something

we walked, Raynor began to speak, his tone measured but heavy. "A cargo ship found part of the wreckage last week. Pieces of the fuselage, some personal belongings, and..." He hesitated, glancing back at us. "...some remains." Laura sucked

the currents could've carried debris miles- hundreds of miles-from the

suit. Neither of us said

HARD REALITY

388 (voucheri

know," Raynor added quietly. "So many players. All gone. It's a big loss for

an empty room. I

the hall, and Raynor

yourselves," he said

see... it's not easy. The bodies were in

my throat. Laura gripped my

open, and a wave of cold air washed over me. The room was stark and sterile, the hum of fluorescent lights mingling with the faint whir

sterile surfaces gleaming under the harsh light. A man in scrubs stood near a workstation, his

to Raynor, who returned the gesture before turning back to us. "We'll

tray making my stomach turn. He pulled back the sheet,

recognizable as human. My chest tightened, and I had to look away, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from

at me. "Do you

speak, but I knew it wasn't Luke or Josh. I can't tell you how I knew, but I did. Laura agreed and shook

back