The plane was already rolling; there was nowhere for any of us to go but Miami, three strangers wearing the same disaster in Row 7.

I said very little for the rest of the flight.

I had come for the truth, and I had it now, more of it than I’d bargained for.

When we landed, Dagny was the first up.

She looked at Vaughan one last time — not heartbroken now, just done — and said, quietly, “Don’t call me.

Any of it.