Falling Skies, Rising Vengeance

I went on a graduation trip with my boyfriend, Marcus Hale, only to have my shameless roommate, Vanessa Quinn, tag along.

On the way to Rybia, our plane was caught in violent turbulence and plunged toward the Egete Ocean. Because of a malfunction, only half the oxygen masks dropped.

The spiteful Vanessa snatched the oxygen mask meant for a Rybian socialite, Layla Al-Farouq. Unable to stand by, I shared mine with the woman, saving her life.

After the emergency landing, her powerful oil tycoon husband, Khalid Al-Farouq, adopted me as his goddaughter out of gratitude, while throwing the vicious Vanessa into the Kibera Slums.

Later, I married Marcus, but on the day we went skydiving, he suddenly unbuckled my parachute and shoved me from ten thousand meters above, leaving me to crash into nothing but broken flesh.

"If you hadn’t meddled and saved that old woman, my darling Vivi would still be alive!"

Only then did I realize the two of them had been betraying me all along.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the plane first took off.

"Hailey Donovan, I’m talking to you! Switch seats with me!"

Vanessa Quinn’s sharp voice pierced my ears, yanking me out of my thoughts.

My heart pounded violently in my chest. It took me a long moment to realize that I had been reborn.

"Go ahead, switch. Sit next to your precious Marcus," I said coldly, my eyes flat with indifference.

In my previous life, I never understood why Vanessa insisted on changing seats. Now it all made sense.

I turned my gaze on Marcus Hale, and a wave of desolation and hatred swept through me.

After we switched, Vanessa and Marcus clung to each other right under my nose, touching one another in ways that made my skin crawl.

As the plane climbed higher and crossed into the Egete, I knew what was coming—severe turbulence.

Sure enough, the next second, the entire plane jolted downward. The violent drop sent every passenger screaming in panic.

"Ah! What’s happening?!"

"Is the plane going down? I don’t want to die, I want to go home!"

"Shut your mouth! Keep bawling and I’ll strangle you myself!"

Cries and curses erupted across the cabin.

I turned my head and saw Layla Al-Farouq, her hands clasped tightly in prayer, her eyes shut, and her face ashen. From my memories of the last life, I knew that she suffered from severe panic disorder.

Suddenly, the plane shot upward again, the cabin tilting nearly ninety degrees.

My hands trembled as I clutched the armrest. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vanessa hurl herself into Marcus’s arms.

"Marcus, I’m so scared!" Her weak, trembling voice sent shivers of disgust down my spine.

He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, shielding her like she belonged to him. "Don’t be afraid, I’m here…" Then his eyes flicked to me, and he fell silent.

A cold laugh escaped my chest. What a pair of filthy traitors.

Before I could look away, a sharp pain shot through my left hand. I glanced down.

Layla’s face was ghostly pale. She clutched her chest, gasping raggedly for air. Sweat poured down her forehead as her eyes rolled back.

My heart skipped. She was having an attack.

I scrambled, pulling at her pocket until I found her inhaler and pressed it to her nose.

Just then, the plane lurched violently again. The inhaler flew from her hand and tumbled across the cabin, landing right at Vanessa’s feet.

My blood froze. Layla was suffocating, her breaths growing shallower by the second.

I reached for my seatbelt, desperate to unbuckle and grab the medicine, but the latch was jammed, stuck fast, no matter how hard I pulled.

I had no choice but to shout at Vanessa, "Kick me the inhaler over! Now!"

She bent forward, spotted the inhaler, then glanced at Layla choking for air. A cruel smile tugged at her lips. "If you want to save her, go do it yourself. Who are you to order me around?"

As if convinced she was about to die, Vanessa dropped the sweet facade.

"First, you try to save some rich woman, now you’re playing saint for a nobody, too. How pathetic."

Instead of helping, she deliberately nudged the inhaler farther away.

"Oh no! The plane jolted and I kicked it by accident. What a shame," she said with mock innocence, her eyes full of spite.

Rage clawed at my chest. My breathing grew ragged.

This vile woman!

"Vanessa!" I glared at her, fury burning through me. "Are you insane? That’s a human life!"

Marcus didn’t even pretend anymore. He pulled her close, declaring boldly, "What does it matter to us? Vanessa, even if we die, we’ll die together!"

Then, he turned that look of loathing on me. "Hailey, you think you’re the only good person in the world? If you’re so kind, why don’t you unbuckle yourself and get the inhaler yourself?"

I whipped my head toward Layla, her body convulsing as she gasped for air.

My jaw clenched. Without another thought, I yanked the hairpin from my head and slashed it across the belt. The fabric tore free.

I pushed up from my seat, but before I could move further, the plane bucked savagely. My body lifted off the seat and slammed into the ceiling before crashing back down.

Agony shot through my bones, my vision swimming with darkness.

Vanessa seized her chance, stomping down hard on my hand, grinding her heel in over and over. "Wench. Serves you right!"

Then, finally, the inhaler rolled all the way to the front, landing near my seat.

My breath hitched. I grit my teeth and crawled toward it, every muscle screaming in pain.

Just as I reached out, Vanessa’s foot crashed into my back. My head smashed against the armrest, stars bursting in my eyes.

The world spun, but I forced myself forward, clutching the inhaler at last.

Even through the haze of agony, I drew on my memories of the previous life. My fingers trembled as I typed out a desperate SOS to the rescue team… and to Khalid Al-Farouq, the oil tycoon who could save us all.