❥ 23| a fatal end

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A LOUD SCREECH MADE my eyes snap open, the utter darkness confusing my disoriented brain before the memories began to file in

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A LOUD SCREECH MADE my eyes snap open, the utter darkness confusing my disoriented brain before the memories began to file in.

We'd crashed.

The plane had crashed. Into what seemed like the middle of a forest with a bunch of overgrown trees, which thankfully worked in our favour. The windows were crashed in, and it was eerily quiet except for the loud noise that had woken me up from my unconscious state. But it seemed like I was the only one who was awake and aware of our new surroundings.

My hand was entangled in a thick mass of hair that was not mine. And so it could only belong to one other person if my memory, of five seconds before we crashed, served me right. My arm was wrapped around a body that was lying right beside me, and her head was against my chest held in a safe, protective grip.

"Faithe?" I shook her shoulder slightly, watching thick lashes cast over her cheeks and lips parted as she took in soft breaths. "Wake up. Faithe."

Trepidation and worry filled me when she didn't show any sign of waking up. No movement, nothing.

"Faithe." I shook her shoulder less hesitantly, startled when the sound of glass shattering came from the front end of the plane.

This was starting to seem more and more like a trap each second.

I didn't have a doubt in my mind that Mahmoud had left us to out the wolves; whatever he'd been bribed with must've been enough to betray our family after having worked with us for years.

I exhaled a rough breath, getting up cautiously, ignoring the violent ache in my forehead as best as I could. "Faithe!"

That seemed to do the trick. There was movement beneath her closed eyes, and they slowly peeled open, revealing baby blues clouded over in pain and confusion.

"Zayaan?" Her voice was quiet and hesitant, but it somehow seemed to rouse my brother and sister awake from their unconscious state.

"What's going on?" Nezrin asked after a few seconds, at the same time my brother shot out, "We're alive?"

"Yes, Zak. We're alive."

"Oh." The three of them slowly pulled themselves up to a sitting position, wincing, varying levels of pain obvious on their faces. My focus was directed to my wife when she dragged away her arm that had been wrapped around my stomach.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

"What?" She blinked. "Oh, no. I'm fine. But you on the other hand have a large wound on your forehead. It's bleeding, Zayaan."

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