“You’re not staying home. End of story.”

Natalie’s tone was firm, like she’d already made up her mind. She always had a way of doing that — making her voice final. You sat on the edge of her bed, backpack half-zipped, eyes wide.

“But I’m not even on the team,” you whispered.

She shrugged, zipping her duffel shut with one hand. “It’s a private plane. Coach won’t care.”

Coach did care. He hesitated when Natalie marched you up to him at the hangar, arms crossed and jaw tight.

“You sure about this, Nat?” Coach Ben’s voice was low, his brows drawn. He glanced between her and you—clutching your backpack, eyes wide as the team boarded the plane behind you.

“She’s just a kid, Coach,” Natalie muttered. “And you know how things are at home. I’m not leaving her there.” meaning your mother — and Coach Ben knew better than to argue. He sighed, ran a hand down his face, and muttered something about how he hoped she knew what she was doing.

She didn’t. None of them did.

The plane lifted into the sky, loud and strange and thrilling. Natalie let you sit by the window. She even gave you her hoodie when you got cold. You watched her joke with her teammates, the cool older sister who never really smiled at home but suddenly seemed lighter here. You didn’t belong, but Natalie made sure you felt like you did.

And then—

The shaking. The metal screaming. The sky falling.

You screamed her name as the world spun, but she found you. Always found you.

You woke up to the smell of fire and blood and silence.

Natalie’s arms were around you before your eyes even opened. Her voice cracked as she whispered, “You’re okay. You’re okay.” she whispered hiding the nervous on her tone but failed. “Okay— let’s take this belt off you okay?”