The silence after Maya’s scream was almost worse than the sound itself.
For a moment, all Sebastian could hear was the dull roar of the engines and the low, panicked whimpering of the wind outside.
Oxygen masks swung like pendulums above them, and the cabin lights flickered before steadying again.
“Breathe,” he said, voice low, firm. “Maya. Look at me.”
She wasn’t crying, not exactly, but her hands were trembling as she clutched the armrest, her lips parted in silent disbelief. The force of the drop had shaken even him, but she looked… undone.
He reached across the small aisle, undid his own belt, and slid into the seat beside her without a second thought.
“I’ve got you,” he said, pulling the mask down over her face. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
The lie tasted bitter on his tongue.
