"Has she arrived?" "Not yet," the best man answered, voice tight. He kept one eye on Julian, who was pacing the marble aisle like a caged man. "Do it now," Julian barked without turning. His tux jacket was buttoned too tight. There was a thread of light along the collar where a security earpiece hid. He held himself like a CEO used to orders being obeyed. "Flowers first," the coordinator said. Her smile snapped when a guest screamed. "Stop the music!" a voice shouted from the back. Phones flicked up. Cameras snapped. On the projection screen behind the altar, a feed jerked to life. "Turn it off!" Cataleya screamed. Her voice cut thin from surprise. The feed showed a photo of Davina on stage, alive, hair wet, eyes hollow with something fierce. Another image slid over: a pair of small hands on piano keys. "That's a forgery," Cataleya said. Her voice tried to climb back to authority and fell short. A reporter shouted from the gallery. "Is this a stunt? Who's behind these images?" "Whoever did this should be arrested," Cataleya said, lips trembling. Her smile cracked. People around her stopped clapping, phones hovering like metal birds. "Play the next file," a low voice ordered from the projection tech booth. The crowd leaned forward. "Stop!" the officiant cried. He had a vow on his clipboard and a wedding to finish, but wooden doors in the hall banged as security moved toward the tech booth. The images kept arriving