Stealing Home

Chapter 2 : Aftermath

Cold.

That was the first thing Hannah felt.

Not air.

Not relief.

Not safety.

Cold water.

It seeped into her shoes first—slow, creeping, almost unnoticeable. For a second, her brain tried to convince her it wasn’t real. That it was just condensation, or a spill, or something small and explainable.

Then it spread.

Faster.

Colder.

Rising.

Her breath caught as it soaked through the soles of her shoes, climbed over her feet, her ankles, the fabric of her jeans clinging instantly to her skin.

She looked down.

Water.

Inside the plane.

A scream tore through the cabin.

Then another.

Everything snapped into place.

“We need to unbuckle,” Everett said.

His voice had changed.

Still calm—but sharpened now, focused in a way that cut cleanly through the noise around them.

Hannah’s hands shook as she reached for the latch at her waist.

Her fingers slipped.

The metal felt too small. Too slick.

She couldn’t get a grip.

Her breath came faster, uneven.

“I—”

“Hey.” Everett’s voice again. Closer. Firmer. “Look at me.”

She did.

Just for a second.

That was all it took.

“Slow,” he said. “You’ve got it.”

Her chest rose and fell hard, but she forced her hands to steady.

One more try.

Click.

The belt released.

The instant it did, her body shifted forward slightly, unanchored now except for the water pressing against her legs.

Her stomach dropped.

This was real.

Everett’s hand closed around hers.

Around them, the cabin had shifted from tension to full chaos. People were standing too fast, pushing into the aisle, voices rising over one another.

Flight attendants moved with urgency now—no hesitation, no softness left in their tone.

“Leave everything!”

“Move to the exits!”

“Stay calm!”

Stay calm.

Hannah almost laughed at that.

The water climbed higher, sloshing unevenly as the plane tilted just enough to make standing difficult. The cold bit deeper now, sharp and relentless.

A loud hiss filled the cabin.

Hannah’s head snapped toward the front.

Bright yellow burst into view as life rafts deployed at the exits, inflating rapidly, expanding outward as attendants secured them in place.

It didn’t feel possible.

Didn’t feel real.

But it was happening.

“This way,” Everett said, guiding her forward.

His hand never left hers.

She followed.

The aisle was crowded—too crowded. People pressed shoulder to shoulder, some moving too fast, others frozen in place, panic locking them where they stood.

Hannah’s breath shortened again.

The walls felt closer.

The space tighter.

Too many people.

Too much noise.

The water surged again, higher now, pushing against her calves, making every step heavier.

Everett moved slightly ahead of her, clearing just enough space so she could keep moving forward.

“Keep going,” he said.

She focused on that.

On his voice.

On the steady pull of his hand guiding her forward.

Not the panic.

Not the cold.

Not the rising water.

Just him.

Step.

Step.

Step.

The exit came into view.

Light poured in from outside, gray and sharp, the open door framing the life raft just beyond it.

A flight attendant stood braced at the opening, her voice clear, commanding.

“Step onto the raft! Move quickly!”

Hannah’s feet slowed.

The raft shifted with the movement of people already on it, unstable, unpredictable.

Her pulse spiked.

Everett’s hand tightened slightly.

“Go,” he said.

She swallowed hard.

Then moved.

One step.

Then another.

Her foot hit the raft.

It dipped beneath her weight, shifting just enough to send a jolt of panic through her chest—but hands reached out immediately, steadying her, guiding her forward.

“Keep moving!”

She stumbled further inside, turning just enough to see Everett step onto the raft behind her.

Relief hit instantly.

More people climbed in after them, the raft filling quickly, bodies pressing closer as the aircraft behind them dipped lower in the water.

“Sit down! Hold onto the straps!”

Hannah dropped down where she could, her legs finally giving way beneath her.

The adrenaline that had carried her this far began to fade, leaving behind something heavier.

Shaking.

Uncontrollable.

Her hands trembled in her lap.

Her teeth began to chatter.

The raft rocked as it pushed away from the plane, drifting further out into open water.

For a moment, everything blurred.

The noise.

The movement.

The cold.

Everett crouched beside her.

Close.

His hand found hers again.

Like it had never left.

She held on.

Didn’t think about it.

Didn’t question it.

She just—

Held on.

“You okay?” he asked.

His voice was quieter now.

Still steady.

Always steady.

Hannah let out a breath that shook on the way out.

“I think so.”

She wasn’t sure if it was true.

But she was breathing.

That had to count.

“You?” she asked.

A faint exhale left him.

“I’ve been better.”

That almost made her smile.

Almost.

The raft rocked again, drifting farther from the plane. The sounds around them shifted—less panic now, more disbelief, relief, shock.

Someone nearby started crying.

Another person laughed—sharp, unsteady.

Hannah stared down at their hands.

Still locked together.

Still steady.

Her fingers tightened slightly.

“You didn’t let go,” she said softly.

He glanced at her.

“No.”

Her chest tightened.

“Thank you,” she said.

He shook his head slightly.

“You don’t have to—”

“I do.”

Her voice was firmer this time.

He didn’t argue.

In the distance, a low hum cut through the air.

Engines.

Hannah lifted her head.

Rescue boats.

Moving fast.

Coming toward them.

A ripple moved through the raft—people noticing, reacting, voices rising again, but this time with something different behind them.

Hope.

Hannah exhaled slowly, her shoulders dropping for the first time since the plane had gone down.

Her body still shook.

Her hands were still cold.

But something had shifted.

They were going to be okay.

She turned her head slightly, glancing at Everett.

He was already looking at her.

Steady.

There.

“Stay by me,” he said.

She nodded.

“Okay.”

This time, there was no hesitation behind it.

The rescue boats drew closer, cutting through the water with purpose.

Hands reached out.

Voices called instructions.

Hannah took another breath.

Then another.

Alive.

Still shaking.

Still trying to catch up.

But alive.

⸻