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.

throat, a dry, raspy sound that drew everyone's

as we all leaned forward, the tension thick

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 have faced signif I bit down on

bumping against mine. I glanced at her, catching the

Not yet.

his words a dull hum in the background as my mind raced. There had been leaks over the last few days-whispers of survivors, names dropped in passing, fragments of hope that felt more like traps. None of those names had been

down the knot of dread that tightened in my chest every time the phone rang or the news played. Hope

continued, "to put an end to the rumors and

the Indonesian police have agreed to release the names

Survivors.

word hung in the air, sharp and

curling around mine in a tight grip. I didn't look at her, couldn't. My eyes stayed

infuriating slowness. 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 is a preliminary list. There may still be updates as we continue to receive information."

man began to

was unfamiliar, Sarah something... a woman's voice

hand as we waited, each name like a hammer to the

the distance, I could swear

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