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"See, I told you it would be fun," Angelica said as she plopped her ass into the driver's seat of the red Corvette convertible rental car. She dropped a plastic sack filled with enough junk food to feed a small army into my lap.

I stared at the bag. Twizzlers, Cheetos, gummy bears, pork rinds, and what looked like three different kinds of chocolate bars peeked out of the top. "You realize we're only driving to Tennessee, not crossing the Sahara."

"Road trips require proper supplies." Angelica slid on black, oversized sunglasses that had me worried if she could actually see through them. "Besides, you need to eat. You've lost weight."

She wasn't wrong. I'd dropped ten pounds in the two weeks since that email arrived. The one with the video that could destroy everything I'd worked fifteen years to build.

"Stop it." Angelica snapped her fingers in front of my face. "I can see you spiraling. No thinking about the thing we're not thinking about until we get to Jasper Creek."

"Angie, how am I supposed to not think about it? Someone has a video of me saying things I never said. They're threatening to release it if I don't withdraw from the film before production starts next week."

"Which is exactly why we told my publicist we're having a girls' spa weekend in Miami while we actually disappear to the one place no paparazzi would ever think to look." She started the engine, and the Corvette purred to life. "Trust me, small town Tennessee is the last place anyone would expect Katherine Lord to hide."

I pulled my baseball cap lower over my blonde hair and adjusted my sunglasses. The Florida humidity was already oppressive at seven in the morning, making my Stanford hoodie cling uncomfortably. I peeled it off, revealing the tank top underneath.

"Smart move taking that off now," Angelica said. "Once we get past Gainesville, nobody's going to recognize you anyway. Rural Georgia isn't exactly reading Variety."

"Now buckle up, buttercup. We've got eight hours of freedom ahead of us."

Angelica peeled out of the rental car lot with enough enthusiasm to make me grab the door handle. Within minutes, we merged onto the turnpike heading north toward Georgia.

"First stop, gas station for drinks," she announced. "Road trip rule number one, you need a Big Gulp."

"We literally just started driving."

"And your point is?"

Twenty minutes later, Angelica pulled into a RaceTrac and emerged with two cups the size of small buckets.

"Coke for you, Mountain Dew for me." She handed me the cup. "Hydration is important."

"This is not hydration. This is diabetes in a cup."

"You need to gain weight." She took a long pull from her straw. "God, I love road trips. When I was twelve, my parents loaded all of us kids into this massive van and drove from Virginia to California. Eighteen kids, two parents, and my grandmother in one vehicle for five days."

"That sounds like hell."

"It was magical chaos. Renzo and Malik got into a fistfight somewhere in Arkansas over who got the last fruit rollup. Jase had to separate them while doing seventy on the interstate. Then Nia threw up on Bruno's shoes, and Zuri cried for three states straight because she missed her stuffed elephant that we'd accidentally left at a rest stop in Oklahoma."

I found myself smiling despite everything. "Your family sounds insane."

"Completely. But in the best way." She glanced at me. "Speaking of insane, you need to tell me more about these videos. I only got the highlight reel when you called."

My stomach clenched. "Someone sent me a video of myself in my trailer, having a conversation with Lu, my hairdresser, on the phone that never happened. Every detail is perfect. My voice, my mannerisms, even the way I touch my chin when I'm thinking. But I never called anyone and said those words. I spent that entire afternoon reviewing script changes."

"What kind of words?"

I stared out the window at the Florida landscape whipping past. "Racist comments about Marcus Laughton, my co-star. Horrible things about how he didn't deserve the role, how affirmative action was ruining Hollywood." My voice cracked. "Marcus and I have done three films together. He's the one who recommended me for this role. He's supposed to be the best man at our friends’ wedding next month, and I'm one of the bridesmaids."

"Jesus." Angelica's knuckles went white on the steering wheel. "That's not just a deepfake. That's a targeted attack. Someone knows exactly how to hurt you both."

"The message said to withdraw from the film before production starts or they'd release it. No money demands, nothing else. Just walk away from the role of Constance Baker Motley. The role that could finally get me that third Oscar nomination. The one that actually means something."

I touched my chest where I kept the St. Christopher medal Marcus had given me after our first film together, when I'd been terrified of doing my own stunts. "If that video goes public, it won't just end my career. It'll destroy a friendship that matters more to me than any award."

"Which is why we're going to Jasper Creek. My brother Jase works for this security company called Onyx. He knows people who know people. Military types who understand cyber warfare." She took another sip of her Mountain Dew. "Plus, there's literally nothing to do there except eat at the Down Home Diner and watch paint dry. Perfect for lying low."