She prayed for some kind of karmic vengeance. Then one night an ambulance arrived and carried the junkie away. “I hope he’s dead,” Renee said. The van went silent. “Anybody want the radio?” Shannon asked, fooling with the knobs. Fast-forward to 2020. The election loomed. Mike wanted to start protesting at Trump rallies again. But he needed a new rock star. Renee had passed away, he’d heard, from a drug overdose.
