Nora was only vaguely aware of Mark hurriedly fitting his coat on and over himself in preparation for the cold that was bound to come. That was, assuming they made their way outside and into the frigid cold. She gave an exasperated sigh when her efforts to force the door open were fruitless. Once Mark stepped up, Nora stepped aside and made room for him to give it a try.<br/><br/>She winced at the sounds of others in the distance, screaming, crying, frantically searching for loved ones. Some were gathering their luggage, while others were flashing lights down into the abyss of plane wreckage to see if they could spot any of their loved ones within the debris. Focusing on her own breathing, she tried to quiet the others by taking deliberate, purposeful breaths.<br/><br/>Mark looked to her then, forcing her attention back onto him. He prompted her to help and she nodded, sliding against the door once more, her body only inches away from his as she faced him and braced the handle. “One,” she muttered, trying not to look as worried as she felt. “Two,” she spoke a little louder, reading herself at once. “Three.” She finally finished counting, and with that last number spoken aloud, she wrenched the door with everything she had in her, jamming her body against it at the same time.<br/><br/>An eerily loud grinding sound amplified as their bodies forced the door open and then, one of the hinges cracked or popped off or something, an agonizing scraping sound echoing in the freezing air, as the door broke off entirely and then flopped into the snow bank beneath them. Nora was still gripping onto the door as it fell, certain that she hadn’t reacted quickly enough to keep from falling right along with it.