< 6 Chapter 6 - Crash into Oblivion 6 Chapter 6 - Crash into Oblivion The van reeked of sweat, gasoline, and gunpowder. 1 Caroline Monroe lay on the cold steel floor, wrists tied behind her back, mouth gagged with duct tape that tasted of dust and glue. Her crimson gown was soaked from the sleet, sticking to her skin in places like a second layer of bruises. The gunmen were yelling. "Police behind us!" "Faster! Go-just hit the damn gas!" The vehicle jolted forward. She slammed into the wall, her head thudding against metal. From her limited view, she could see headlights through the cracks in the rear doors. Sirens wailed behind them-closer now. A voice barked over a megaphone. "Pull over immediately or we will open fire!" The driver snarled. "Try me." The van swerved sharply left. Caroline's shoulder cracked painfully against the edge of a crate. Across from her, another gunman cursed. "You should've let us take both girls!" "She wasn't the one he chose," the leader said flatly. Chosen. That word burned louder than the sirens. Even now, as the van tore through Brooklyn toward the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge, her mind looped one image: Mason holding Iris. Not even glancing back. Just... letting her go. Like she'd never mattered. 10:11 < 6 Chapter 6 - Crash into Oblivion She ground her wrists against the edge of a broken metal crate, ignoring the sting of torn skin. She refused to die tied up. The van hit the bridge entrance at full speed. Rain battered the windshield. The tires screeched against the slick road. A police barricade loomed ahead-spiked strips glowing red in the dark. "Brace!" someone shouted. But there was no time. The van swerved hard, clipping the median. A gunman smashed into a crate. Caroline slammed into the floor. Her ears rang. Then-glass exploded. Steel screamed. And the world tilted. The van burst through the guardrails. Air swallowed everything. For one endless second, there was no sound-just the weightless, horrible awareness of falling. Then- *Impact.* The Atlantic swallowed them whole. Darkness. Cold beyond imagining. The van filled fast. Icy water poured in through broken seams. The last thing Caroline saw was a string of 10.11 216 < 6 Chapter 6 - Crash into Oblivion pearls escaping someone's pocket and spiraling upward like ghostly fish. Bullets popped under pressure. One gunman shrieked. She kicked upward, gasping against her gag, chest screaming for air. Her hand grazed a shard of metal. She sawed. Harder. The crate tore into her bindings. Her wrists bled. But the cords loosened. She kicked again-foot hitting a cracked seat cushion. She burst through the open van door just as the entire vehicle tilted downward, sucked by gravity and salt. Caroline surfaced, screaming silently. Moonlight struck her face like a slap. Her lungs tore in air that felt like knives. The sea roared around her. Bits of fabric, metal, and shattered plastic bobbed beside her. She grabbed a floating crate. Clung to it like a life raft. Somewhere behind her, the van slipped into the black. Gone. Helicopters buzzed overhead. Spotlights crisscrossed the surface. But they missed her. Too low. Too fast. She opened her mouth to yell-but no voice came out. Only seaweed and seawater. They passed her. One. Two. 10:11 716 < 6 Chapter 6 - Crash into Oblivion And then nothing but waves. By dawn, the search was called off. News anchors declared all occupants dead. Iris wept during interviews. Mason stood beside her, face blank. "There wasn't enough time," he told reporters. "They took her before I could stop it." He said her name once. Then never again. But miles away, on a rocky shore outside Long Island, Caroline Monroe washed ashore. Alive. Barely. A man found her. Retired Coast Guard, grizzled and silent. His name was Elias Byrne. He carried her into his weather-beaten lighthouse cottage and lit a fire, wrapping her in scratchy wool blankets. She coughed up seawater for hours. When her eyes finally opened, Elias said only, "You're lucky. Or cursed. Depending on how you see it." Caroline didn't speak. Not that night. Not the next. Only when she could stand did she whisper, "Don't tell anyone." 10 11 416 < 6 Chapter 6 - Crash into Oblivion "Family?" "Gone." "Friends?" "None I want back." He raised a brow. "You're supposed to be dead, aren't you?" She nodded once. "Why keep it that way?" She looked toward the sea, voice a rasp. "Because no one came looking." Within days, Elias called in favors. Discreet ones. A forged passport. A bus ticket. A new name. Caroline Monroe drowned that night with the van. Lina Hart was born in her place. She sold her ruined jewelry, including the family pearls-salt-stained but still valuable. With the money, she boarded a midnight bus to Boston. She wore secondhand clothes and carried only a sketchbook and silence, On the back of a receipt, she drew the dress she would've worn to her wedding. Then she crossed it out. And started over. Flowing lines. Bold shapes. Fabrics that mimicked crashing waves. Clothes made not for beauty, but for survival. 17:11 516 < 6 Chapter 6 - Crash into Oblivion By sunrise, she stepped into a rented attic apartment above a print shop. She made coffee. She stared at her reflection. No longer a fiancée. No longer a Monroe. Just a survivor with raw skin and sharper eyes. She whispered, "No more waiting." From now on, she wouldn't chase affection. She would command it. Through brilliance. Through grit. Through sheer force of will. Lina Hart didn't need to be chosen. She'd never be overlooked again. Comment 0 Leave the first comment for this chapter. Vote Show support to the author by leaving comments when sending gift. 10:11 Swipe Left To Continue > Send Gifts 6/6