By then she had been awake, a friend believes, for three days. There was just so much information. So many links. She got into her little red two-door Pontiac Fiero. It was older than she was. She’d been drinking—she’d later test at twice the limit—but that didn’t slow her. She had done her research. YouTube and tweets and podcasts. The algorithms fed her. She fed the algorithms, making memes. She’d text her findings to her friends. One tried to warn her: “You’re being used.”
