Flat out refuses.
“No, it can’t be,” I say automatically.
Bella swipes.
The next line loads.
Sources confirm aircraft registered to DJ Mars involved in emergency crash landing.
The room tilts.
No.
No, no, no, no!
“He was flying home,” Bella whispers, tears spilling harder. “They said he was flying home.”
I feel like I’m underwater.
Like sound is muffled.
Like my body isn’t fully attached to me.
Adrianna gasps behind me.
Nathan grabs Bella’s shoulders, steadying her.
“Is he—” Adrianna can’t even finish.
No updates.
No confirmation.
No fatalities listed.
Just—plane down.
Plane down.
I reach for my phone.
Hands shaking so badly I almost drop it.
Call.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
Nothing.
NOTHING.