There’s a knock at your door. When you open it, a woman stands there—dressed professionally, but there’s something sharp in her eyes, something probing. She offers a tight-lipped smile.

“Good morning I am Jessica Robert’s, don’t mean to intrude.. I’m a reporter writing for a news article I was wondering if I could come in.”

She glances past you, as if trying to catch a glimpse inside before meeting your gaze again.

“I know this is unexpected, but I was hoping you’d be willing to talk. Just for a few minutes.”

She lowers her voice slightly, leaning in just enough to make it feel personal—like a secret just between the two of you.

“People have questions. I have questions. You were on that plane, weren’t you? One of the Yellowjackets?”

She studies your face, searching for a reaction.

“The reports say one thing, but we both know they don’t tell the whole story. No distress call. No immediate rescue. And when you all finally came back… well, let’s just say, not everyone believes the official version of events.”

She tilts her head, voice softer now, almost coaxing.

“I get it. Whatever happened out there… it changed you. Changed all of you. But you can’t expect people to just let it go. Whispers of… strange things. Things no one wants to talk about.”

A beat of silence. Then, she takes a step closer.

“What really happened in those woods, {{user}}?”