I touched my face and head-no blood, at least. Was it hours ago? A minute? A day? I had no idea. The same TV I’d watched only a few hours ago. We’d stopped.īlinking against the pain, the first thing I could make out was the shattered TV screen dangling from the back of the seat in front of me.

When I opened my eyes, a blinding light stung my vision. My mind swam toward the surface of an endless black ocean.

The ceiling screeched and tore and buckled and peeled away, exposing the sky. The plane plummeted, and my stomach shot into my chest. The pilot looked back at us, his expression tense. But thinking you’re about to die has a weird way of bringing people together.Īt the front of the plane, the door to the cockpit was open. Normally, I’d have delighted in seeing him shook for once. Movement to my left told me Miles was awake, too. I gripped the armrests like my life depended on it. Maybe it’s just a dream was my second, but then the plane dipped down again, shaking and rattling. That was the first thought that shot through my mind. To seventeen-year-old me, who was sure her idea would never amount to much of anything: Manufactured in the United States of America Visit our website at Edited by Lydia Sharp and Stephen Morgan For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.įort Collins, CO Teen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.Ĭopyright © 2018 by Alice Reeds. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Echoes by Alice Reeds