Bianca
The first thing I heard were voices.
They were muffled and distant, like I was underwater. My eyelids felt impossibly heavy as I tried to blink them open, catching only flashes of images. Hands reaching for me. A woman’s worried face peering through the glass. A cracked windscreen.
Isaac. Where was Isaac?
My eyes snapped fully open, and I gasped, sucking in a lungful of cold air. The world came into focus all at once—the cracked windscreen, the bent propeller visible through the rain-streaked glass, the instrument panel still glowing, somehow, despite everything.
And then I turned, and there Isaac, slumped beside me in the pilot’s seat, his golden hair falling across his face. He wasn’t moving. My heart stopped in my chest.
“Isaac!” I reached for him, my seat
