Between the time I passed out and woke up in the Detroit hospital, I have literally no recollection, and so I’m free to make up whatever turn of events I’d like.
My initial go-to is that once we landed, Raul rushed to the back of the cabin, frantically screaming my name until he found me. He knelt down, swooped me up, and raced me off that plane, shouting, “This woman needs a medic!”
Other days, I kind of like the idea of Grandma Lucy walking off that plane (she’s totally fine as I envision the scene in my head because she’s got some kind of Holy Spirit bubble surrounding her that kept the smoke out and the oxygenated air in). Once she gets onto the tarmac, she kneels down, thanks God for his protection, and senses with powerfully divine intuition s that I’m in trouble. At which point sh
