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.

said, his voice softening as he gestured us down a narrow hallway. His steps were brisk and purposeful, as though

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

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 in a sharp breath beside me,

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

and I followed suit. Neither of

HARD REALITY

388 (voucheri

quietly. "So many players. All gone. It's a big loss for

room. I didn't respond. I couldn't let myself feel

steel door at the end of the hall, and Raynor paused,

need you to prepare yourselves," he

not easy. The bodies were in the water for weeks. The damage

in my throat. Laura gripped my arm

was stark and sterile,

the walls, their sterile surfaces gleaming under the harsh light. A man in scrubs stood

returned the gesture before turning back to us. "We'll start with the first one," he said, his tone gentle

attendant opened a drawer, the metallic screech of the sliding tray making my stomach turn. He pulled back the sheet, and my

swollen and discolored, barely recognizable as human. My chest tightened, and I had to look away, biting the

at me. "Do you recognize

unable to speak, but I knew it wasn't Luke or Josh. I can't tell you how I knew, but I did.

again, sliding the drawer back into place. "Next," Raynor said, his voice