Trip to Siargao? or Trip to the Past?

The morning began with the rhythmic clatter of the coffee grinder, the sound echoing through the house. Catherine slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the morning light. She had slept deeply, soundly, like an elderly woman enjoying a well-deserved nap. Today was the day they were leaving for Siargao, a trip she had been looking forward to. Yet, the events of yesterday continued to linger in her mind – the wolfman, the unsettling encounter with the fox-woman, and then, inexplicably, George.

Why was she thinking of him now? Three years had passed since his death. There was no reason for him to intrude on her thoughts. Was it a test, she wondered, a cruel twist of fate? Then, a vivid memory surfaced, a fleeting image from their past, a forgotten moment that suddenly came rushing back to her like a tidal wave.

Catherine arrived at her first class, a little too early, the classroom still empty. Should she go in, or wait for other students to arrive?

The question looped in her mind, a constant refrain. "Should I go in, or wait for them?" she muttered to herself, pacing nervously outside the classroom door.

Being early wasn't inherently bad, but for Catherine, on the first day, it felt daunting. She was shy, hesitant about entering the room alone.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of indecision, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Excuse me?" a voice startled her from behind.

Catherine turned, her gaze meeting the eyes of a tall, lean man standing just inches away. He had a warm complexion, jet-black hair, and a face that was both friendly and strikingly handsome. His age was somewhere in his mid-twenties, perhaps early thirties. He looked at her with a shy yet friendly smile.

"Is this room 204?" he asked, his eyes scanning the room.

"Yes," Catherine replied, nodding.

Is he a student? she wondered, observing him. 

But what's with the laptop and all those books? It was the first day of class. 

Did he really need to bring so much?

She continued to observe him, her expression neutral.

"Right, uh, is the air conditioning on?" he asked, his voice casual.

Catherine stepped inside the classroom, immediately noticing the lack of cool air. The room felt stuffy, the temperature little different from the humid air outside.

"Oh, uh, I'll just put this on the desk," he said, taking charge. He quickly placed his laptop and a stack of books on an empty desk, then turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Catherine placed her bag on the second row of seats, observing the man more closely. It quickly became apparent that he wasn't a student, but a professor. She shrugged it off, finding a seat and pulling out her phone. She spent the next five hours checking social media, scrolling through updates and indulging in a bit of online entertainment.

The class finally ended, and Catherine gathered her belongings, preparing to leave. She met up with her friends, Tom Ryan and Isabella Gostavna, a Filipino-Russian student.

"A lot of our classmates are making a fuss over George, our art history professor," Tom remarked, sounding unimpressed.

"You can't deny he's good-looking," Isabella teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

"I don't know, he seems kind of… mediocre to me," Tom scoffed, rolling his eyes.

 "Probably the type to get involved with a student."

"Hey! Too loud!" Isabella and Catherine chided him, stifling giggles.

The three friends left the classroom, navigating the bustling hallway filled with students, some in groups, others walking alone, each caught up in their own world.

Rosevelt University was a testament to its founders' unique vision. Built in a charming retro-Victorian style, the university reflected the architectural tastes of its founders, John and Rose Velton, a prominent Filipino-American couple. 

John, a journalist turned politician, and Rose, his wife, had both been passionate about education. Inspired by their own experiences as eager students, they established the university, a testament to their shared vision.

"Hey, what's our next class?" Catherine asked as they walked.

"Photography," Bella replied.

"I hope the professor isn't a stickler," Tom remarked. "If they ask for our expectations for the class, I'm going to be brutally honest."

"What will you say?" Isabella asked, curious.

"I'll tell them to be fair with their grading," Tom declared. "And to actually do their job."

"Will you really?" Isabella teased, unconvinced.

"Watch me," Tom retorted.

Catherine nodded silently, her attention drawn to the vibrant scene unfolding around them. Posters advertising student organizations, upcoming events, and university announcements lined the walls. Professors hurried by, some clutching cups of coffee, others carrying takeout containers.

"Hey, Cat, I heard the school has an event tomorrow," Bella said, "it's a yearly thing, right? What time will you be coming to school?"

"Probably around 7:00 AM," Catherine replied. "The event starts at 9:00, so that should give me enough time to get ready."

"Cool, let's wait for each other tomorrow," Bella suggested. Catherine and Tom both nodded in agreement.

The three of them continued walking down the hallway towards the exit.

"Hey, uh, I'll meet you guys later," Tom said, excusing himself. He stepped away from Catherine and Bella.

"Where are you going?" Catherine asked.

"Billiards. The boys have been waiting for me," Tom replied. "See you later." With that, he turned and left the building.

Catherine and Bella exchanged a silent glance as Tom walked away.

"He makes friends quickly," Catherine observed, raising an eyebrow.

"Tell me about it," Isabella murmured, crossing her arms.

"Let's go grab some food," Bella suggested, nudging Catherine playfully.

"I brought my own lunch," Catherine said, patting her bag. "You lead the way."

"Okay!" Bella exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "I know the perfect place." She grabbed Catherine's hand and pulled her along, eager to explore.

Catherine, caught off guard, allowed herself to be pulled along by her friend, a smile playing on her lips.

Catherine and Bella arrived at Bobbie's Cafe, a popular student haunt known for its delicious and surprisingly affordable food. Despite the budget-friendly prices, Bobbie's used high-quality ingredients, ensuring that every pastry, meal, and drink was homemade and flavorful.

The cafe was bustling with activity, a cacophony of student chatter and the clatter of dishes filling the air. Waiters and waitresses navigated the crowded tables, their movements efficient and practiced. Catherine, overwhelmed by the noise and the sheer number of people, struggled to find an empty table.

"Speaking of the devil," Bella murmured, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Catherine turned to follow Bella's gaze.

It was him. Their art history professor, George Martin.

George sat at a small table, engrossed in a book. A drink rested beside him, and his bag occupied the seat opposite.

"Let's sit with him," Bella suggested with a mischievous glint in her eye, already pulling Catherine along.

"What? No-" Catherine protested, but Bella's grip was firm, and her objections were quickly stifled.

Bella led Catherine towards George's table. He immediately noticed their approach, his gaze shifting from his book to them with a polite smile.

"Hello, good to see you both here," he greeted them warmly. His eyes, however, darted around the cafe as he spoke.

"Hello, sir. Can we sit next to you?" Bella asked, her voice laced with playful flirtation.

Catherine remained silent, avoiding eye contact with George. She glared at Bella, uncomfortable with her friend's audacity.

"Of course! Come, sit down," George offered, moving his bag to his lap to make room for them.

Bella sat down first, her enthusiasm undiminished. Catherine, however, hesitated, lingering behind. George noticed her reluctance.

"It's alright, Miss… Wong, right?" he asked, remembering her name.

Catherine nodded, a sigh escaping her lips as she finally sat down beside Bella, still shooting her friend a disapproving glare.

"What are you reading, sir?" Bella asked, her gaze drawn to the book in his hands.

"Just a classic art history book," George replied modestly, closing the book. "Nothing too exciting."

"So, uh, since you two are here," George began, his tone casual, "would you mind giving me some feedback?"

"Feedback?" Bella echoed, intrigued.

"Was my lecture engaging today? Or do you think there's anything I could improve?" he asked politely.

An awkward silence followed. Both girls were caught off guard, scrambling for something to say in the midst of the bustling cafe.

"Your lecture wasn't bad, sir," Catherine finally admitted, breaking the silence. "It wasn't the most engaging, but the information was definitely… memorable."

George nodded thoughtfully, considering her words.

"Your lectures are actually interesting, sir," Bella offered, attempting to lighten the mood. "I almost forgot to sleep during your class."

George let a small slight smile, while Catherine cringed at her friends words, almost finding it annoying to hear.

George let out a small, appreciative smile. Catherine, however, cringed at Bella's words, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over her.

"Sir, how old are you?" Bella asked without a hint of shyness, her voice bold and curious.

"Are you single, sir?" Bella asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Catherine's eyes widened in surprise. She wanted to excuse herself, to disappear into thin air, but she remained rooted to the spot, a silent observer to her friend's audacity.

George raised his eyebrows, a thoughtful smile playing on his lips. He lowered his gaze, considering his answer. "I'm 26," he revealed. "I graduated from the Philippine University with a Bachelor of Arts degree at 22."

"I'm a free man," George added with a playful twinkle in his eyes.

"That's nice to know," Bella continued, her curiosity seemingly insatiable. "What was life like at university, sir?"

George pondered this for a moment.

 "Bearable," he said, "as long as you did your work. You'd survive."

"What was the hardest subject?" Bella pressed on, her questions relentless.

"Reading and Writing," George admitted.

 "We had to do a lot of research for those classes, and I wasn't the best at it back then."

"Did you have any difficult professors?" Bella inquired, showing no signs of slowing down.

George chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

"I think I hit the jackpot," Bella joked, oblivious to Catherine's growing discomfort.

"Bell, I think we should…" Catherine began, standing up and gently pulling on Bella's arm. However, Bella ignored her, determined to continue her interrogation.

"I bet I have," George said, setting his drink down. "But I don't remember them anymore. I've moved on."

Bella, shot back, "What's your type in a woman, sir?" Her face remained impassive, a mask hiding whatever emotions might be swirling beneath.

Catherine, unable to stomach another moment of this, pushed herself away from the table. The din of the crowd, the cacophony of voices and laughter, had finally become unbearable. She needed to escape.

Catherine headed to the bathroom, preparing for her upcoming trip to Siargao. She grabbed the toothbrush and organic toothpaste from the counter and began brushing her teeth, trying to banish the lingering memories from her mind. She brushed gently, focusing on the rhythmic motion.

After several minutes, she spat out the excess toothpaste and rinsed her mouth. Then, she returned the toothbrush and toothpaste to their container and left the bathroom.

In her closet, Catherine began the task of choosing her outfits for Siargao. She wanted to be thoughtful about her packing, ensuring she had the perfect pieces for the island.

She selected four items: two white linen dresses – one adorned with delicate green leaves – and two sets of pajamas and swimwear. Carefully removing the five pieces from the closet, she laid them out on the bed while she searched for her luggage.

Catherine searched frantically for her luggage, scouring the room, but it was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, she decided to ask Aunt Cassie. Opening her door, she called out into the hallway,

 "Auntie!"

Silence.

She tried again, louder this time, "Auntie!"

"Yes, dear?" Aunt Cassie's voice drifted up from downstairs, likely from the kitchen or living room.

"Are you all packed?" she inquired.

"Not yet," Catherine replied, her voice echoing slightly in the hallway. "But have you any idea where my luggage is?"

"I believe it's in your sister's room," Aunt Cassie answered promptly.

Catherine headed towards her sister's room and knocked on the door, expecting a response.

Silence. 

The door remained closed, and there was no sound from within. Catherine knocked again, a little louder this time.

After a moment, she knocked once more, hoping to finally get a response.

"What?" Amy's muffled voice came from the other side.

"Let me in," Catherine said, waiting for Amy to open the door.

Amy finally opened the door a crack. Catherine slipped inside and closed it quietly behind her.

Amy was sprawled on her bed, headphones perched on her head, presumably lost in music or a movie. Her room was a chaotic mess, clothes strewn across the floor. Her blue luggage lay on the ground, bulging at the seams, clearly packed to the brim.

Her vanity area was equally disastrous, a chaotic explosion of cosmetics scattered across the surface.

"Did a tornado hit this place?" Catherine teased, surveying the scene.

Amy, feigning obliviousness to Catherine's playful mockery, continued to pretend to listen to music, though it was clear she hadn't been.

Catherine ignored her sister's act and began searching for her luggage amongst the chaos.

Catherine checked the side of her closet, but her luggage wasn't there. Her gaze then fell upon the bed. She knelt down, lowering her head to peek under it.

Amy, observing her sister's position with a mischievous glint in her eye, slowly removed her headphones and placed them on the bed. Then, she began to crawl towards Catherine, who was still peering under the bed.

Amy playfully pushed Catherine's head repeatedly, letting out a mischievous giggle.

"Ow! Let go, you stinky bitch!" Catherine exclaimed, startled by the sudden assault.

Amy giggled uncontrollably, finally releasing Catherine's head. She then lay back down on the bed.

"What the fuck was that for?" Catherine groaned, rubbing the spot where she had been hit.

Ignoring her sister's laughter, Catherine located her pink luggage tucked away under the bed. She carefully pulled it out from under the bed and then slowly stood up, shooting a withering glare at Amy, who was now making an exaggeratedly goofy face.

Catherine snatched up the pink luggage and left Amy's room, quickly regaining her usual composure and ignoring her sister entirely.

She returned to her own room, carrying the suitcase in her right hand. Placing it near her bed, she gathered the four outfits she'd chosen. Then, she headed to the bathroom to grab an extra toothbrush, her organic toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, and an extra bar of organic soap.

From a closet shelf, she retrieved a small container for her toiletries. She carefully placed each item inside, then sealed the container tightly.

Returning to her room, she slipped the toiletries container into one of the luggage's side pockets.

After an hour or two, she was finally finished packing. The luggage was filled with all the essentials, plus a few extra items she thought she might need. As a final touch, she placed the ancient artifact her grandparents had given her yesterday on top. She wasn't sure why, but she felt a strange urge to bring it along.

With her packing complete and her makeup done, she slipped into the pink linen dress she'd chosen for the airport, ready for her to go. 

"Everyone, are you all packed and ready?" Aunt Cassie's voice boomed from downstairs, echoing through the house.

Catherine, startled by the sound, grabbed her pink suitcase and hurried out of her room. As she exited, she bumped into Amy, who was leaving her room at the same time.

"Princess Aurora?" Amy teased, her tone playful.

Catherine smirked confidently, a proud expression gracing her face. Amy chuckled lightly, and they began their descent down the stairs, the luggage bumping against the steps with a rhythmic clatter. Amy led the way, allowing Catherine and their suitcases enough space.

Aunt Cassie was waiting in the living room, scrolling through her phone to pass the time. She was lounging on the sofa, looking relaxed. Suddenly, she noticed them approaching, her eyes widening in a friendly smile.

"Look at the two of you," Aunt Cassie exclaimed, "you both seem more excited than I am!"

"Well, not as excited as you..." Amy quipped, her eyes lingering on her aunt's outfit. Aunt Cassie was dressed in a flowing brown bohemian dress, topped with a wide-brimmed sun hat adorned with a vibrant yellow flower. A bohemian-style necklace completed the look.

"Aww, you'll win the lottery in that outfit!" Aunt Cassie teased, then rose from the sofa and grabbed her suitcase.

"Wait, will your boyfriend drive us, or will we have to call a cab to the airport?" Catherine asked casually.

Aunt Cassie turned around with a reassuring smile. "No worries, my dear. Mark will be here any minute now." She glanced at the clock.

Suddenly, a loud honk from a car outside shattered the silence. Aunt Cassie, Catherine, and Amy all turned towards the sound.

"Coming, my dear!" Aunt Cassie called out cheerfully, then gestured for them to follow her towards the front door.

Catherine was the last one out, locking the door behind her. Amy and Aunt Cassie were already waiting by the car, greeting Mark, Aunt Cassie's boyfriend.

Catherine joined them, dragging her pink suitcase.

Mark was average height with olive skin and spiky brown hair streaked with blonde. He looked young, perhaps still in his twenties, and had a lean build. He quickly helped them with their luggage, including Catherine's, which Amy had been holding. He loaded them into the back of the van one by one and then closed the hatch.

"Sweetface, what took you so long?" Aunt Cassie greeted him with a quick kiss. Amy, seemingly oblivious to their interaction, headed towards the van and held the door open for Catherine.

"Sorry, babe. Traffic was a nightmare," Mark said with a smile.

Catherine approached them, ignoring their playful banter.

"Hey, you're all grown up. Last time I saw you, you looked like a pregnant adult cat," Mark teased, his tone lighthearted.

Catherine frowned, giving him a withering look.

"Last time I saw you, you still looked like shit," she retorted.

"Cat! Mark! Stop it, you two," Aunt Cassie scolded them.

Catherine, annoyed, took her seat in the second row and pulled out her phone, scrolling through social media. Amy, lost in her music, seemed unaware of the tension.

Aunt Cassie and Mark got into the van, Mark taking the driver's seat and Aunt Cassie settling into the passenger seat.

 Mark glanced at the rearview mirror, then checked his mirrors and adjusted his seat. Aunt Cassie, meanwhile, checked her reflection in the compact mirror, ensuring her makeup was flawless.

"Everyone ready?" Mark announced cheerfully.

Amy, still engrossed in her music, didn't respond. Catherine, deliberately ignoring him, remained silent as well.

"Of course, baby!" Aunt Cassie said, noticing the awkward silence. She winked at Mark, signaling him to ignore it, and then started the engine.

The car glided along, a kaleidoscope of urban life flashing past – towering cityscapes, bustling shops, gleaming malls, and cozy restaurants. Amy, lost in her own world, kept the rhythm of the city out with her headphones. Catherine, meanwhile, was glued to her phone, scrolling through social media with a vacant stare.

"How long will you be in Siargao, Babe?" Mark asked, his gaze briefly shifting from the road to glance at her.

"Just four days, I'm afraid," she replied, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "As much as I'd love to stay longer, work calls."

Mark chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, come on. You can always make time for a little more fun."

Aunt Cassie rolled her eyes playfully, "Easier said than done, Mark. Responsibilities, you know?"

Mark grinned, his attention back on the road. He found her annoyance endearing, a small spark of amusement igniting within him.

Catherine stared at her phone, scrolling endlessly until boredom set in. Her gaze drifted to the car window, a blank canvas reflecting the passing world – cars, roads, signs, the sky, and the fleeting faces of strangers. She rested her head against the cool glass, lost in the monotonous rhythm of the journey.

"Sis, I forgot to tell you something," Amy's voice broke through her reverie from the back seat.

Catherine barely acknowledged her sister, a single raised eyebrow questioning her.

"My friend shared an article with me," Amy continued, her voice laced with curiosity. "It was about a… a big wolf found dead in the Pasig River."

The news sent a jolt through Catherine.

 The memory of the wolfman from yesterday, still vivid in her mind, made the story chillingly relevant. She wondered about the wolfman's fate, the reason for his attack, the unanswered questions swirling in her head. But she kept her thoughts to herself, the truth too strange, too unsettling to share.

"Probably staged," she mumbled, her eyes returning to the window, feigning disinterest.

"No way! The pictures are real. Here, look!" Amy insisted, thrusting her phone towards Catherine.

Catherine winced, trying to avoid the gruesome images. She already knew the truth, but the thought of confronting it, of explaining it to her sister, filled her with dread.

"Alright, alright. Get it out of my face. I believe you," she groaned, pushing her sister's hand away.

"So, what's your theory?" Amy pressed, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Catherine groaned again, burying her face in her hands.

"I know you have some thoughts about it, I can sense it," Amy teased, her voice dripping with mock seriousness. "You're a self-proclaimed know-it-all, remember?"

Catherine raised an eyebrow, unconcerned by her sister's playful jabs. "I don't know anything," she declared nonchalantly. "Even if I got hit by a truck, I wouldn't have predicted it."

Amy groaned, deflated by Catherine's dismissive response. She leaned back in her seat, a mixture of annoyance and disappointment settling over her.

"Hey, Cat. Just wondering, what happened to your boyfriend?" Mark asked, his voice laced with casual curiosity.

Catherine's head snapped up, a flicker of surprise and something akin to pain crossing her features. Though she knew she'd moved on, the unexpected mention of George struck a raw nerve. Amy, sitting at the back, mirrored her surprise, her eyes wide with concern.

Aunt Cassie, surprisingly, remained silent, her gaze averted. Despite knowing how sensitive the topic was for Catherine, she seemed to be deliberately avoiding the conversation.

Catherine met Mark's gaze, her eyes hardening. She had no intention of discussing George, of reliving the past.

Mark, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, quickly looked away, his gaze fixed on the road. He'd clearly struck a chord he hadn't intended to.

The airport buzzed with activity, a kaleidoscope of faces and cultures swirling around them. Catherine, Aunt Cassie, and Amy navigated the throng, dragging their luggage behind them. The energy was palpable – a symphony of hurried footsteps, announcements crackling over the loudspeaker, and the hum of a thousand conversations. It was chaos, beautiful chaos.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity in the security line, they emerged, ready to board. A short walk later, they found their seats, settling in as the plane filled with passengers. The flight attendants, a whirlwind of efficiency, began their safety demonstrations, their voices a calming counterpoint to the growing excitement.

"Catherine settled into her seat, stowing her carry-on bag beneath her feet and finally allowing herself to relax.

'You alright back there, dear?' Aunt Cassie inquired from the row behind.

'Yep,' Catherine replied flatly.

'Cat, let's watch a movie together,' Amy suggested.

Luckily, their tickets had placed them close to each other. Catherine nodded, relinquishing movie selection to Amy. They settled in for the anticipated flight to Siargao, a journey expected to last an hour or two. It was the perfect opportunity to unwind and entertain themselves during the flight.

The next half hour flew by as Catherine and Amy engrossed themselves in their favorite old Filipino drama on Amy's phone. Both were captivated, their eyes glued to the screen. The plane had already ascended, and the flight attendant was making her rounds, offering refreshments from her cart. Some passengers were resting, while others chatted loudly, prompting the flight attendant to occasionally remind them to keep their voices down. There were also the inevitable crying babies and restless children, their parents doing their best to soothe them.

"The hell? Why did she forgive him?" Amy exclaimed in disgust. "He's such a dick!"

"Right, what's so good about that guy anyway? He looks sick," Catherine judged, her eyes wandering around the cabin, losing interest in the drama.

"Waste of time..." Amy muttered, annoyed.

Amy exited the app and tossed her phone into her bag. Shifting her focus, she fell silent, while Catherine gazed out the window. Amy had been wanting to ask this for a long time, but the words always seemed to get stuck in her throat.

Finally, she decided she couldn't put it off any longer.

"Uh, big sis," Amy began hesitantly.

Catherine turned to her, a curious expression on her face.

"What is it?" Catherine asked quickly, noticing her sister's slight nervousness.

Amy avoided her gaze, searching for the right words.

"What?" Catherine repeated impatiently.

"How did you—"

Just as Amy was about to speak, the plane lurched violently. Passengers scrambled to their feet, panic erupting as the aircraft shuddered and the emergency alarm blared. Catherine, Aunt Cassie, and May were thrown off guard, swept up in the wave of fear. Screams pierced the air as passengers panicked, children crying inconsolably.

'Cat, Amy! Stay together, okay? Don't make any sudden moves,' Aunt Cassie called out from behind them, rising to her feet to check on them.

'Auntie! Auntie! Are you alright?! We're fine,' Amy reassured her, though her voice trembled with anxiety.

Catherine remained frozen, her mind reeling. She gripped Amy's hand tightly, a wave of fear washing over her, leaving her speechless and immobile. The unexpected turn of events had shaken her to her core."

"What the hell is going on?!!."

"What?! What the fuck?!."

"Are we gonna crash?!."

"Everyone, calm down and relax!!."

Panic erupted. The cabin, a moment ago a space of hushed conversations and rustling magazines, descended into chaos. Not everyone could maintain composure. The flight attendant, her voice strained, tried to soothe the panicked passengers.

"Everyone, this is the captain speaking. We're experiencing a significant surge in air pressure. The engines are struggling. We're doing everything we can," the captain's voice boomed from the speakers, echoing through the tense atmosphere.

Screams pierced the air. The flight attendants, their faces pale, scrambled for solutions. Suddenly, emergency life vests popped out from overhead compartments. A mad scramble ensued as passengers, some even fighting, desperately grabbed for them. The flight attendants, quick-thinking, managed to distribute extra vests to those who were left empty-handed.

Aunt Cassie, her face grim, helped Catherine and Amy don their life vests. The sisters, their hands clasped tightly, exchanged a reassuring nod. They had to be strong for each other. No room for panic now.

"Cat, Amy, stay close," Aunt Cassie said, her voice firm, her eyes searching their faces. "We'll be okay."

"Everyone, please stand up and form an orderly line for evacuation," the head crew member announced, her voice echoing the captain's.

Every passenger was supposed to stand up, including Catherine, Amy, and Aunt Cassie. But these folks weren't exactly known for their patience or politeness. One guy, all elbows and aggression, shoved his way through the line, setting off a chain reaction of grumbling and muttering. Some people followed instructions, others stubbornly refused. Angry words flew back and forth, the air thick with tension."

The head crew, a guy with a voice that probably could've shattered glass, stepped forward. "Hey! Settle down! We can't keep you safe if you're all at each other's throats!" he boomed through the loudspeaker.

And then, just like that, disaster struck. Without warning, without a single shudder or a hint of impending doom, Flight 456 – the plane carrying Catherine, Amy, and Aunt Cassie – erupted in a fiery explosion.

 Debris rained down from the sky, scattering across the clouds like a grotesque confetti. Smoke billowed upwards, obscuring the sun and casting a chilling shadow over the world below.