As we soar over land, the immediate contrast between the crystal calmness of the ocean and the bustling, brightly lit city is almost breathtaking. Jules had always told me that Kuala Lumpur was the kind of place you needed to visit rather than get a feel of from the photos and as of right now - I believe her.

Harry's gaze is also fixed on the outside of the helicopter. He looks exhausted from his side profile and there are goosebumps covering his bare arms and chest despite the blanket he's enveloped in. I sidle up into his side, relieved when he relaxes into me. I want to tell him that Jules is down there somewhere; that whether or not she knows it yet, I'm going to see her in a matter of hours and I can't wait for him to meet her. But I know the only way of conveying this information to him is to shout...and I don't want the jumpsuit to hear us.

It's crazy to think that if the crash had never happened, I'd probably still be in Kuala Lumpur right now anyway; somewhere down there amongst the madness. And I'd never have met Harry. He'd be working in Melbourne, unaware of the strawberry-blonde girl who'd been sat back in economy class on the same flight. We'd probably not even have seen one another disembarking the plane.

Right now would all be so different.

Rapid, unfamiliar chatter cuts through the propeller's whirring and I look up to find the jumpsuit barking into his radio again. The helicopter tilts and begins to veer almost inwards; steering us into the city centre rather than drifting along it's perimeters. My stomach clenches.

We're nearly there.

There's a large white building ahead, made up of floors upon floors with never ending windows and clinical, white lights blaring out of them. The roof is flat with a black helipad covering its surface area and I realise that this must be the hospital.

This is where we rejoin reality.

I can feel Harry's knees bouncing excitedly beside me; his eyes not straying from our destination. He looks like he's going to throw the blanket off of his shoulders at any minute and launch himself out the side of the helicopter, unable to wait for touchdown. I'm excited for him...for me...for us. But at the same time, a part of my brain is telling me that the moment we set foot on that helipad is the moment that we exit our bubble.

And I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to leave yet.

The helicopter drops, almost plummeting towards the helipad and I hold my breath.

This is not the aeroplane.

We are not crashing.

Harry seems to sense my unease and winds his right arm around me, securing me against his side as though we're two pieces of Velcro. My upper teeth sink into my lower lip and I go to close my eyes, except there's something down there outside the hospital...something large and moving and frantic.

It's a swarm of people. All huddled together in front of the entrance to the hospital, fighting for their spot at the front. Every now and then there's a flash of flight, like that of a camera.

My stomach churns.

"Papparazzi." Harry yells into my ear. Even with the overbearing sound of the helicopter, I can detect the disapproval in his tone.

I'm amazed. The jumpsuit must have only said Harry's name into his radio fifteen to twenty minutes ago and yet somehow it's already spread like wildfire. They're practically fighting one another down there just to get the first shot of Harry alive and well. They're animals. And yet a part of me wonders if maybe my name will have made its way to Jules.

We come to hover over the helipad, just a set of double doors open up at the far end of the roof. A whole team tumble out, displaying a variety of coloured medical uniforms as well as formal attire. Two of them are armed with wheelchairs and I cringe.

Clearly they were expecting Harry and I to be a little more worse for wear.

The helicopter lowers, bumps against the concrete of the roof and then comes to a standstill. The propellers cease and Harry retracts his arm from my side.

"We made it." He whispers into my ear and his lips brush against the side of my face.

I still want to ask him my questions. I can't help thinking that time is running out. We don't know what's going to happen once we're whisked inside and returned to England. I need to know where we stand.

"Harry," I say quickly and his eyes dart up to my face. A blur of navy blue brushes past us and jumps down onto the roof. An arm extends, offering me a safe climb down and I sigh because I know...I know the moment has passed. It's too late.

I turn away from Harry and tentatively accept Jumpsuit's gloved hand. His helmet is still covering his entire face and my own expression is still terrified in the reflection. My bare feet hit the roof and I'm surprised not to feel the balmy grains of golden sand sliding between my toes. Instead it's cold, hard and gravelly.

The hospital staff pace towards us; all wearing an expression of shock or relief. I wonder what exactly it was that they were expecting. Unconscious? Bleeding? Either way, it clearly wasn't this. I almost feel somewhat embarrassed, as if perhaps everyone has gone a bit overboard preparing for our arrival.

A woman steps forward wearing a pin-striped skirt and blazer. She has a clipboard clutched to her chest and a smile stretched across her face as if we're old friends. She's the only person not looking at me as if I'm supposed to be dead.

"You are Sarah?" She asks, her English almost flawless. Behind me, I can hear Harry declining the wheelchair and politely thanking everyone gathered around.

I nod and she gestures for me to follow her inside, still smiling. As I move my legs, I catch sight of them - tanned and the hair overgrown.

Oh my god.

I'm still only wearing the swimsuit and Harry's hoodie. I'm basically half naked.

I try to pull the grey fabric further down my body and hope that everyone on the roof has been so shocked at our apparent good health, that they've been too distracted to notice my lack of clothing. We're guided through the double doors and into a brightly lit hallway. The artificial lighting burns my eyes and I grimace at the ground. Given that our only source of light recently has been the sun, this is almost blinding.

"Sheesh." Harry mutters beside me, also shielding his eyes.

We all pile into an elevator - wheelchairs included. Harry ushers me to the back wall as the staff filter in beside us, chatting manically amongst themselves and not once taking their eyes off of us. It's daunting that we haven't a clue what they are saying, especially as it's almost definitely about us.

Harry's fingertips bump against my own, sending a jolt of electricity into the palm of my hand. "What were you trying to say to me before?" He asks quietly enough that only I can hear. I tilt my head upwards so that I'm looking at him. The cut across his eyebrow is barely visible now; only the slight gauntness in his cheeks and the heavy bags under his eyes are any real indication that we've been gone for an extended period of time. No wonder everyone looks so surprised.

"I just wanted to ask you-"

The elevator doors open with a ping and numerous curious eyes snap our way. Harry's hand falls away from my own and we're guided out of the elevator and into a pale, sterile smelling corridor. The marbled linoleum is freezing beneath my bare feet and to my horror, I realise I'm leaving dirty, grainy footprints with each step. Despite the sea water and water pool, I must be filthy. The woman in the striped suit doesn't seem to be leaving my side any time soon and I appear to have become sandwiched between herself and Harry as we manoeuvre through the hospital.

It's beyond surreal being here. Even just looking at something other than sand, sea and palm trees is almost too much to comprehend as being real and I think a part of me is genuinely still waiting to wake up any moment from now. We take a sharp left, entering a much quieter part of the hospital with fewer prying eyes. One of the staff members in duck-egg scrubs steps forward and opens the door of a side room. Beyond the door way I can see more pale walls, a bed and a wooden visitor's chair. Harry is ushered in and I follow behind him.

"Sarah." It's the voice of the lady in the suit. I stop in my tracks and turn to face her. "We actually think it would be better for you to be taken to another room."

My chest tightens.

What?

My mouth falls open but I can't seem to find the words I'm looking for.

"Why?" Harry's voice cuts in gruffly. He's reappeared beside me, now standing so close that our shoulders are touching. "Why can't we stay together?"

The woman blushes and clutches her clipboard a little tighter. One of her colleagues says something hurriedly in Malaysian but she doesn't even acknowledge that she's spoken. "There are paparazzi desperately trying to get in this building...desperate for Harry's photo. Some of them will do anything, whatever the consequences. It's not a good idea for you to be in the same part of the hospital right now." She licks her lips. "And you both need to be examined by the doctors. I'm sorry but it's for the best."

I think my hands are shaking but I can't be sure. All I know is that I don't want to be separated from Harry.

He sighs, evidently defeated and my throat tightens in response. I don't think I want to hear whatever he's about to say. "Ok." He says and turns to face me; placing his hands on either side of my face. "It sucks but it makes sense and I don't want you under any unnecessary stress because of me." I want to tell him not to blame himself but the minute I open my mouth, he shakes his head. "I will come and find you as soon as I've finished up in there, I promise."

I want to kiss him goodbye but it's awkward with all these strangers watching us like we're some sort of circus act. He drops his hands before I can even respond and stalks into the room with an army of hospital staff hot on his tail. The door clicks shut and I sink my teeth into my wobbling lower lip again.

Somehow, now surrounded by my own army of people - I've never felt more alone.