The Commander's Sister // Reg Slivko

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We all agreed on a bengal tiger being the cover story. Mason would develop her photographs in privacy, and none revealing the details of the island were to be published. San and Houston would say their data collections were lost on the island. The boys would all falsify a similar report, saying that the crashes were caused by the storm system surrounding the island. Packard was killed looking for Rogers, who died in the crash.

Luckily, James and I had nobody to report to. The events that had played out would stay between the two of us until we died. Cole's wife had been notified of her loss, and the military was going to take care of the funeral for her. Jack said he would want the rest of us there. My heart jumped at the prospect of seeing Stephen.

"Jay?" I called out as Houston, San, Mason, and Hank filed out of the room.

"What is it?" He held his hand out for me to take.

"Where's my clothes? There's something in my pocket that I need."

He nodded. "Let's go."

I turned to plant a kiss on Reg's lips, heart dancing as he hummed against me.

"I'll see you later." I mumbled as I pulled away.

"Of course, doll." He grinned.

I blushed and followed James out of the room and down the hall. Jack stayed behind to go over the details of their reports. James and I walked in silence, letting the noises of other patients and nurses whispering wash over us. He led me back to my room, holding my hand as I sat on the bed. He pulled the chair up close and sat down, so our knees were touching.

"Ire?"

"Jay..." I trailed off, now sniffling.

"I found the picture. That's what Cole gave you, isn't it?"

I nodded, bottom lip trembling as I looked down at my lap, clenching my hand into a fist. James noticed and grabbed my hand, prying it open.

"Irene, it's going to be okay. I promise." He shushed.

I let out a sob, now looking up at him. "He's alive, Jay. He's alive and w-w-we just left him!"

My brother moved to sit next to me, pulling me into a hug and rocking back and forth as he shushed me again. My thoughts began to spiral and I came to a conclusion. Stephen probably hated us. He probably thought we abandoned him at the school. Somehow he had ended up in the United States and he had gotten adopted by a random family. We had tried our best to find him, but it wasn't good enough. We had turned tail and walked away. We had left him.

"Irene, please breathe." James begged.

I whimpered, then caught my breath as I shoved my face into his shoulder. I had cried more than I would've liked over the last two days.

"Irene, it'll be okay. I promise." James rubbed circles on my back.

"I thought we weren't supposed to make promises." I hiccuped.

He laughed softly, pulling me away by the shoulders to look me in the eyes.

"I can promise you this because I can guarantee that no matter what happens with Stephen, you will be okay."

"What if he hates us?" My chest ached.

"C'est la vie, Bitsy."

I snorted as hard as I possibly could. "French sounds like a dog choking on a piece of lettuce."

A smile grew on his face and he patted my hair. "That's oddly specific, but also fairly accurate."

I sighed, thinking of something to say. A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts, followed by the squeak of the hinges. A man with a white coat walked in, pulling a clipboard from the feet of the bed.