Lina climbed up the stairs, quietly as possible, and ducked into the plane. It was empty—for now.
Dim cabin lights lit up leather seats and folded tray tables. No flight crew. No pilots. Not yet.
She was finally inside.
Chest heaving, she slid her bag off and crouched behind the last row of seats. Her fingers trembled as she fumbled for her phone.
She needed to call her grandparents. They'd know what to do. They could send help.
Get me out of here. Please.
But just as she pulled up their contact, she heard it.
Footsteps.
Sharp. Purposeful. Coming closer.
Lina held her breath and ducked lower, clutching her phone tightly. The footsteps climbed the stairs of the aircraft—heavy boots, too heavy for airline crew.
