That night, she hit a stretch of Highway 10 where the GPS flickered between "Service Lost" and a sleepy town called Marigold Creek. The screen in her Sony framed her perfectly: her auburn curls, the way her bare feet (painted indigo to match the violets in her trucker hat) rested on the dashboard. She was recording a new video— "Midnight Thoughts: Am I Just a Video?" —when her tires kicked up gravel. A figure stood in her headlights.