Free Free Fall by Rick Mofina

He’d smiled when he’d overheard her telling a friend, My dad’s an engineer. Not the kind who drives trains but the kind who builds planes and makes them fly, which is a lot harder.
    Academically, Veyda had taken after her parents, excelling at school. She loved debating subjects, anything from veganism to eugenics, from politics to physics, from mathematics to rock-and-roll history. Her dream was to become a medical doctor, like her mother, and an aeronautical engineer, like her father.
    First, I’ll follow Dad’s path and learn all about flight, Veyda had said.
    They were so proud when she was accepted at Pepperdine then went on to UC Berkeley and then later to MIT.
    But Elizabeth had missed her and lived for their visits, so she’d been ecstatic when Veyda surprised them with a call from Cambridge.
    I’ve got a break. I’m coming home for a week!
    Elizabeth had adjusted her schedule for the unexpected visit and had hoped he would do the same, but the timing couldn’t have been worse for him. He’d been overwhelmed by the deadlines for a major project, one of the most challenging he’d ever faced. But he’d also wanted to see Veyda as much as possible, so he’d made what adjustments he could to get away from work.
    Veyda’s visit had been a happy time. It’d been months since they’d all been together. They’d decided to drive up the coast to a pretty restaurant they liked near Santa Barbara.
    Before leaving, he’d checked with work. Serious problems with the project had arisen, but for the moment he’d believed they were manageable, although senior management had just launched a surprise in-depth review of a critical aspect.
    Hang on to your hat, Bob, one of the other engineers had texted him just before they’d left.
    During the drive, his phone had vibrated with texts, but he’d ignored them. When they got on the 101, his phone had begun to vibrate even more, which had concerned him.
    Elizabeth and Veyda had been so deep in conversation that they’d never heard his phone, so he’d decided to do what Elizabeth had forbade: he checked it. He’d done it surreptitiously, taking it out of his left pocket and lowering it on his left side between his left leg and the door. He’d needed to know what management had been saying on the project. Carefully, he’d scrolled through the messages, and he remembered the moment Veyda had said, Oh my God, Mom, the winters in Cambridge are absolutely cruel... Then Elizabeth was shouting, Robert! They’d drifted across another lane and the rear of a slower-moving car had loomed instantly in their windshield, giving him less than a second to register it, twist the wheel violently and stomp on the brake... They’d missed the slower car, but suddenly theirs was lifting, rising and twisting in the air... The car had rolled. His seat belt had cut into him. He remembered Elizabeth and Veyda screaming then air bags exploding, and Elizabeth flying from the car amid glass shattering and metal crunching. The car had rolled and rolled, until it had finally come to a stop, and he’d heard a hissing and smelled gasoline. He’d crawled from the wreck, disoriented, unable to find Elizabeth or Veyda. The car had come to a stop on its roof, and he’d seen...Elizabeth’s shoe...her hand... She’d been pinned under the car. He’d tried lifting, but the car wouldn’t move... Elizabeth had been making gurgling sounds. He’d dropped to his knees, taking her hand the way he’d held it on their first dates...at their wedding...at their daughter’s birth... As he’d held her hand...she’d cried out.
    Veyda!
    Mom! Veyda had been crawling to them, the whites of her eyes piercing him from between the blood webbing her face.
    Elizabeth had squeezed his hand.
    Stay with me, Elizabeth! I love you! Stay with me! Please!
    Mom!
    Veyda had collapsed some ten feet from