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

SURVIVORS

JESS

The room was too warm, the air heavy despite the gentle hum of the overhead fan. I sat with my hands folded tightly in my lap, the fabric of my dress sticking to my skin as I shifted

uncomfortably in the plastic chair. Laura was beside me, her fingers drumming against the armrest of her chair-

a habit she'd picked up over the last few weeks. Across the room, scattered in a loose circle, sat a few other women, each with the same mix of anxiety and exhaustion carved into their faces. The wives. The girlfriends. The ones left behind.

No one spoke, and the tension crackled like static in the air. Even Laura, usually the first to fill silences with her sarcastic humor, remained unusually quiet.

The Indonesian police had been brutal, to say the least-disorganized, dismissive, and maddeningly slow to respond. It had taken weeks for the U.S. embassy to finally get involved, weeks of speculation, rumors, and tabloids playing guessing games with our lives. And now, after all that, here we were.

Waiting.

The representative sent by the embassy stood at the front of the room, a man in his fifties with graying hair and a suit that looked out of place against the backdrop of the humid, coastal

000

air outside. He held a folder in his hand, its edges frayed like it had been passed around too many times.

his throat, a dry, raspy sound that drew

leaned forward, the

deliberate, "the search and rescue efforts following the crash of Flight 142 have been ongoing for more than 5 months to get everyone their loved ones back. We all want closure. The Indonesian police

bumping against mine. I glanced at her, catching the faint shake of her

Not yet.

dull hum in the background as my mind raced. There had been leaks over the last few days-whispers of survivors, names dropped

knot of dread that tightened in my chest every time the phone rang or the news played. Hope felt like a dangerous

the man continued, "to put an end to the rumors

agreed to release the

Survivors.

the air, sharp and

didn't look at her, couldn't. My eyes stayed fixed on the man at

Every second felt like an eternity, the pounding of my heartbeat drowning out every other sound. "Before I begin," he said, looking up briefly, "I want to remind you all that this

began to

was unfamiliar, Sarah something... a woman's voice across the room letting

waited, each name like

and in the distance, I could

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