y hand, a stark contrast to the wa

y engage

a movie. My fiancé, Daniel Vance, stood besid

eaming from the front row. My father, David Miller, a giant

, was at the top of its game, a

lass. "To my beauti

world s

play a slideshow of our happy memories, fli

s my

wasn't

graphic, compromising acts with a dozen different men. The audio was a twis

p sucked the air

usic

el. "Is that... Chloe Miller?"

m me as if I'd burned him. His fa

mposure intact despite the horror in her eyes. "This is

new message flashed across the s

URITY COMPROMISED. CLIENT DAT

ails, sensitive corporate secrets belonging to

our company. And they were

orters in the room, initially here for a society wedding, swarmed

did you lea

r company's eth

u do this to

d her a hypocrite and a criminal in front of the entire wo

sperately f

gray. He saw my mother being mobbed, saw the ruin of everyt

olla

d escaped his lips be

s too late. He died right there, on the floor of the ballroom,

amily, strode over to me, his face cold as sto

enough for everyone nearby to hear. "The Vance

standing alone on the stage, the deepfake vid

en minutes, I ha

eer. My father's life. My fami

e a meme, a punchline. Dr. Evelyn Miller, the fraudulent ethicist. C

cafes and office corridors. The shame was a physical weight, a shrou