“What did you do?” Helena asks, still trying to sort out dead memories from the new, real ones. “Think about the school shooting two days ago,” Raj says. Helena tries to remember the news coverage she watched the last few mornings in her apartment—hordes of students evacuating the school, horrifying videos taken on students’ phones showing the rampage as it unfolded inside the cafeteria, devastated parents pleading for politicians to do something, to never let this happen again, law enforcement briefings and vigils and— But none of that happened. Those are dead memories now.
