Letting My Brother's Best Friend Take My V-Card (Jessie and Luke) novel Chapter 238

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.

“This way,” he said, his voice softening as he gestured us down a narrow hallway. His steps were brisk and purposeful, as though he wanted this over as much as we did.

We followed in silence, the fluorescent lights overhead casting harsh shadows on the scuffed linoleum floor. The air smelled faintly of coffee, paper, and something metallic that I couldn’t quite place.

As 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 in a sharp breath beside me, but I didn’t look at her. My gaze stayed fixed on the floor.

“We don’t know the exact crash site,” Raynor continued. “There was a storm, and the currents could’ve carried debris miles- hundreds of miles–from the impact. We’re working with what we have.”

Laura nodded numbly, and I followed suit. Neither of us said a word.

HARD REALITY

388 (voucheri

“It’s sad, you know,” Raynor added quietly. “So many players. All gone. It’s a big loss for the country.”