Chapter 7 - The burning wreckage
The private jet crashed heavily into the grassy median, tearing the front landing gear completely off the fuselage. A terrifying cloud of smoke and sparks erupted from the bottom of the plane as it finally ground to a halt. I threw my car door open before we even fully stopped moving and sprinted toward the smoking aircraft. "Rowan, wait, it could explode!" Sterling shouted from behind me. I did not care if I burned alive, I was not going to lose my daughter. The emergency exit door of the jet was kicked open from the inside, falling heavily onto the wet grass. Eleanor stumbled out of the smoke, coughing violently and clutching a black leather briefcase. She looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred in her eyes. "You ruin everything you touch, you miserable stain," Eleanor screamed at me. "Where is she!" I roared, lunging forward and tackling my own mother into the dirt. The heavy briefcase popped open, sending stacks of hundred-dollar bills flying into the harsh wind. I pinned Eleanor down, wrapping my hands tightly around the collar of her expensive blazer. "I left her locked in the cargo hold," Eleanor laughed maniacally, blood dripping from her lip. "She is going to burn in there just like Arthur did." I let go of her and scrambled up the emergency slide, diving headfirst into the smoke-filled cabin. The heat inside the plane was absolutely suffocating, burning my lungs with every agonizing breath. I crawled on my hands and knees down the narrow aisle, screaming Lila's name until my throat bled. I reached the heavy metal latch of the rear cargo door, but it was completely jammed. Flames began licking at the fabric of the seats right behind me. Through the tiny glass porthole of the cargo door, I saw a terrifying sight. Lila was lying on the metal floor, completely unconscious, as the smoke grew thicker by the second.
