The summer semester was beginning, and being relatively low on the food chain at the university meant Sam Miller-Greene was teaching an Introduction to Biology class. His alarm woke him up bright and early, and the first thing he did after using the bathroom was look up the status of Henry’s flight. Apparently it was delayed, otherwise Henry would have called already.

He expected to see a landing time, or possibly delay information. Instead he saw something he’d never seen before: instructions to call a given number for more information. Sam tried not to panic and assume the worst as he turned on the TV and switched to CNN, then reached for his iPhone and dialed the number from the website.

The line rang then went into a holding pattern while a recorded voice assured him that his call would be handled in the order in which it had been received. He switched to his Bluetooth to free up his hands while he waited.

He was pacing when CNN came out of the commercial, and he felt his life spin out of control when the first thing he saw, before the anchor even began speaking, was an image of a TransOceanic airplane being shown in the background. The anchor began talking about flight 3012, saying that it was missing. Missing. What the fuck did that even mean? Had it crashed? Apparently, the deadpan anchor intoned, that was assumed.

Sam fell to his knees in the middle of the living room and cradled his head in his hands, rocking back and forth. No, Henry wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. Henry could swim, and he knew the ocean well. The water there would be warm enough to prevent immediate hypothermia. If he survived the crash, he could stay alive until rescuers arrived on the scene. He’d been seated very close to an exit row; Sam had insisted on that. Henry had teased him about it, but had humored him anyway.

He couldn’t sit there and do nothing. He got up and returned to their bedroom so he could get dressed and drive to the airport. There would be information at the airport. They had rooms where they gathered families for things like this, didn’t they?

Sam mechanically rushed through his morning prep, skipping the shower and just giving himself a surface clean with a wash cloth and running wet hands through his hair. The recorded voice at his ear kept reassuring him that a live person would eventually pick up.

Back in the living room he picked up a frame holding his favorite photo from their wedding. In it Henry’s expressive brown eyes shone as he gazed up into Sam’s. Sam choked back a sob. They had to find him. They just had to.

He hurried into the attached garage and saw his sister, Regina, pull into the driveway as he opened the garage door. He went out to meet her. She stepped out of the car, took one look at his face, and apparently recognized that he knew.

“Are you heading to the airport?” she asked.

“Yes.” He pointed to the Bluetooth device at his ear. “I’m still on hold waiting for info.”

“Get in. You’re in no condition to drive.”

He closed the garage door and did as instructed because she was right, he wasn’t. He shut his eyes and tried to concentrate on his breathing. His right leg jiggled uncontrollably.

He felt his sister’s hand touch his arm. “Sam, I’m so sorry.”

“He’s not dead. He’s not.”

She didn’t reply. She just put the car in gear and drove.