She remembered gripping the armrest.
And then—
A sound.
Not turbulence. Not wind.
Something tearing.
Her eyes snapped open.
The world rushed in all at once.
Light stabbed into her vision—harsh, broken beams filtering through jagged gaps above her. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but everything was wrong. The angle of the sky was wrong. The color of the light was wrong. The air smelled wrong—thick with smoke, metal, and something else she didn’t want to name.
She was on her side.
No—half on her side, half twisted, pinned by something heavy across her legs. She tried to move and a strangled cry escaped her throat before she could stop it. Pain flared so brightly it turned her vision white again.
“Okay,” she whispered hoarsely, though there was no one to hear her. “Okay… okay…”
Her voice sounded small. Fragile.
Alive.
That thought hit her like a second impact.
Alive.
She forced herself to breathe, slow and shallow at first, then deeper despite the stabbing protest from her ribs. Each breath grounded her a little more. Each second pulled her further from that protective fog.
She lifted her head.
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