Leon's POV:
The valley at Blackpine Ridge stank of scorched metal and blood.
The wreckage from the crash had been scattered for hundreds of yards. Some pieces still smoked where they lay. Others had burned down to blackened frames that barely looked like parts of a plane at all.
The rescue crews moved carefully through the debris field, sifting through ash, twisted metal, and shattered luggage. Every time they uncovered something new, someone nearby would break into a muffled sob.
I stood at the edge of the valley with mud and soot caked into my clothes and ground into my skin.
I had been there for twelve straight hours, from the moment I arrived the night before. I hadn't stepped away once.
I had not let anyone help me.
I was digging through it myself.
I tore through warped sheets
