Five hundred heads snapped downward to look at the gold-embossed wedding programs they were holding.

“Inside every single program,” I instructed, “is a sealed insert. Break the seal.”

The sound of tearing paper echoed through the massive church—a ripping sound that mirrored the tearing down of Adrian Blackwell’s entire life.

“You won’t find a romantic poem in there,” I continued, my eyes locked on Adrian, who was currently fighting against the grip of the federal marshal. “You’ll find a QR code. I invite you to take out your phones and scan it.”

A wave of cell phones materialized.

Screens glowed in the dim light of the cathedral.