Her face softens as she closes one hand and sucks from the cigarette in the other. Her smoky exhalation clogs the air. “But I didn’t say that. Because when you hear Mireille tell a story, you believe it’s relevant and true on a deeper level. She and Hero transformed the entire wretched island of Viloxin into a utopia of sorts, albeit briefly, so it isn’t too much to assume her words alone could transform a single wretched soul. So, I encouraged her. I pushed her to recount more memories, in search of something that would feel as significant on the page as it did coming from her spellbinding mouth. But White Fox…”

She sighs, staring at the burning cigarette in hand.

“White Fox was a disaster.”

Her lips stretch into the cruelest of grins.

“White Fox tracks your mother’s loss of faith—her disillusionment with that diverse utopian ideal she and your father built their lives on—through her own life journey. White Fox is a failed Mireille, and White Fox is a failed Viloxin. You see, girls, your mother was just another victim of burnout. When her beauty began to fade—and with it, her charisma—the shallow pool of her skills became obvious for what it was. She was never going to create a utopia on Viloxin. Her best days, as a beautiful young actress, were far behind her. And when she realized this, she dove deep into her disappointment, only to unearth the brutal mess that is White Fox, an elaborate and woefully unstructured yarn of a prostitute who endures whimsical abuse after abuse but never ages … She was not subtle, your mother,” she adds fiendishly. “White Fox is a record of her failing to come to terms with her waning significance. Her waning impact on the world. As the positive attention around her fades, and her future options become numbered, she lashes out, placing blame on others.”

I’m biting the insides of my cheeks so hard I taste metal.

“Has your therapist ever told you that you project your own life onto other people’s?” Tai asks.

Daria laughs, and it’s a chillingly beautiful sound, throaty and warm—my only hint as to why Mama might have liked the person Daria once was. “Often. But can you prove me wrong? Mireille abandoned the world at the point she did because she was trying to punish it for no longer granting her the status of Someone Special, for abandoning her and her delusional utopian dream. Taking White Fox with her after a year of calling it her most important work, was a final ‘screw-you.’” She blows smoke in our direction, eyes dazzling with their unchecked delight. “For all her charm, the poor dear can be impetuous.”

Tai scoffs. “Oh, please—”