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Las Vegas to DC. It had taken Miranda almost exactly twenty-four hours to reach the same place in the sky where the first plane had been turned around—just north of Santa Fe.
This time she was aboard a 737-800 in a standard 162-seat two-class configuration. In seat 2A as she preferred. It was directly in line with the pilot and also the same seat her mother had sat in on TWA 800. Mother had always enjoyed the window seat and it had been a merry game between them about whose turn it was to sit there.
Miranda also liked the idea of riding close behind the captain of the aircraft who would be the one doing everything possible to save the aircraft if there was a problem. And, if she was going to die, she liked the symmetry of doing so in the same seat as her mother.
Miranda struggled to
