The gap between me and the world

"That's right! Find the Captain!"

"Why should the rest of us die for the two of them?"

"Make them agree! Now!"

The cabin erupted.

Louis had heard the commotion perfectly well.

After a long silence, the intercom crackled back to life, his voice thick with humiliation and resentment. "Alright... Stephanie, I agree."

He paused, took a deep, audible breath, and addressed the whole plane in a flat, emptied tone. "Attention, this is Captain Louis. The current emergency resulted from a serious error by crew member Ashley, stemming from my personal failure in supervision. I accept full responsibility and will voluntarily ground myself pending investigation."

The cabin exploded into uproar.

Every gaze, sharp with contempt and fury, swung toward Ashley, still crumpled on the floor.

All the color drained from her face.

She couldn’t believe it. Her Louis—the man who had always coddled her—had just thrown her to the wolves to save his own skin.

"No... that’s not…" she whispered, eyes vacant.

I stood and walked over, looking down. "Your turn for the second condition."

Ashley looked up, tears welling, her gaze pure venom.

Forced to kneel and kowtow? It was worse than death.

"Stephanie! Don’t push me too far!" she shrieked.

"You still don’t get it, do you?" I sneered, crouching until my lips were at her ear, my voice a whisper for her alone. "You think Louis caved to save everyone? Wrong. He did it to save himself. If this plane goes down, the captain is the first to take the blame. And do you really think a man who just admitted to gross mismanagement in front of everyone gives a damn about you now?"

Her body began to tremble violently.

I’d struck right at the nerve of her deepest fear.

"Keep stalling," I added, my voice a low, deliberate murmur, like the whisper of a devil. "And soon, not even Louis—not even a god—will be able to save you. And then? All these lives? They’ll be on your head."

Survival instinct finally crushed her pathetic pride.

Clenching her teeth, her whole body shaking, Ashley slowly sank to her knees.

She lifted her head, looked at the ring of furious faces around her, and with utter humiliation, slammed her forehead against the cold floor.

"I’m… I’m sorry…"

With each kowtow, she muttered the apology.

The passengers’ rage seemed to cool a fraction with every muffled thud.

I didn’t spare her another glance, turning instead toward the breached window.

"Donna! Bring all the bandages and tape from the first-aid kits! And every pillow, blanket, and cushion on this plane!" I commanded, voice firm. "Find me some strong male passengers to help!"

In that moment, I was Stephanie again—the cool, professional Chief Stewardess from my past life.

Donna and the other flight attendants sprang into action.

Supplies quickly gathered at my feet.

Assessing the hole: small, but the cracks around its edges were spiderwebbing outward.

"We need a hard brace first, then soft material to pack it, then layer upon layer of tape to seal it!" I instructed the men who’d stepped forward.

Shrugging off my jacket, I wrapped a metal meal tray tightly in a blanket and pressed it against the breach.

A massive suction force instantly tried to rip it—and me—right out into the void.

"Now! Hold me!" I yelled.

Two men lunged forward, one wrapping his arms around my waist, the other bracing against my back.

"Tear the pillows and blankets into strips! Stuff every gap!" I kept directing.

Everyone scrambled to pack the hole.

Then, in that critical moment, another scream pierced the air.

"Ah!"

I glanced back. Ashley, who had just finished her kowtows, had somehow gotten to her feet. Staggering toward us—probably trying to "help" and salvage some face—her foot caught, and she stumbled, falling directly toward me.

"Look out!"