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In 1994, before Keith died, before she met Aurelle, Diana turned sixteen, and she was given a car, just like Keith had been. It was a red Miata convertible and it didn’t suit her at all, which is just the kind of thing that a rich girl thinks when her parents buy her a car. Spoiled, rich b***h, she chastised herself. She hugged her mother, who said it was her father who chose it, and she hugged him, too. Thank you, she’d said, I love it. She felt silly in it, but grew to love her independence, her tiny moving room away from her family. She drove all over Toronto, listening to mixtapes she’d made for that exact purpose. Guided by Voices. Stereolab. Yo La Tengo. Mazzy Star. Velvet Underground. Music that made her feel older and alone, and like that might be a good thing.
Once, when she
