And then we were falling. My eyes were shut tight, fists clenched, as the deafening sound of wind blared against my eardrums. I knew that with each passing second we were accelerating, our bodies becoming fragile projectiles that would hit the ground with a sickening crack. My blood would mingle with his, each bone in our bodies shattering beyond repair.
"Kat! Open your eyes!"
The wind was suddenly replaced with another sound—the noise of our parachute catching wind. My breath hitched. On the landing pad beneath us, messily written in white duct tape, were two loving words.