Ritchie was the farthest thing from a daredevil. She found no thrills in going fast, in facing the possibility of death at every sharp turn, of not knowing when the ride was going to end.
She flew her glider almost daily and could execute whatever aerobatic maneuver she was instructed to perform, but left to her own devices, she would most enjoy a gentle gliding through the air, at most slowly banking around in lazy circles around the landing field. Of course, then, she was always in control.
This? This was the very opposite of control.
And she was enduring it all while knowing, knowing with every shrieking cell of her nervous system, that they were the entire time plunging ever deeper under that mountain.
She could feel her mind wanting to just break. If it snapped, she wouldn"t have
