The roar of the ocean is the first thing heard, followed by the metallic groans of the fuselage. My head throbs, and light filters through the jagged tear in the side of the plane, illuminating dust motes dancing in the humid, stagnant air. I pull myself out of the wreckage, staggering onto the hot sand. The beach is a graveyard of corporate belongings, and as I blink against the sun, I see them: three of the most powerful women in my company, standing amidst the ruins, looking at me with expectant, fearful eyes. All them shaking one of them crying all with ash and cuts on them