The microphone feedback screeched for a second, then Samantha’s voice rang clear and sweet through the ballroom speakers. Every head turned. Conversations died. I froze near the edge of the crowd, my simple black dress suddenly feeling like it was made of paper.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, smiling that perfect, practiced smile, “tonight is about charity, about giving back. But sometimes we must address uncomfortable truths to protect the people we care about.”
My stomach dropped. I knew what was coming.
She gestured to the large screen behind the podium. A slideshow started. The first photo appeared—grainy but clear enough. Me and Chase in the garden the night of the wedding. My robe half-open, his hands on my waist, our bodies pressed together under the moonlight. It looked exac
