At the Speed of Lies

“With a sharp, compelling main character and an equally compelling mystery, At the Speed of Lies is a perfect—and timely—thriller.”—KIERSTEN WHITE, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Hide“At the Speed of Lies takes readers on a gripping, suspenseful ride through the fever swamp of online conspiracies and their real-life consequences. It is truly a book for our time.”—SARAH DARER LITTMAN, author of Some Kind of Hate“Starring a fierce wheelchair user who uncovers conspiracy theories and takes down ableist bullies, At the Speed of Lies is a page-turning thriller of a debut novel.”—LILLIE LAINOFF, author of One for All“Timely and gripping, Cindy L. Otis’s fiction debut is a thought-provoking commentary on the far-reaching consequences of conspiracy theories. Readers are sure to devour this smart and captivating thriller.”—EMILY LLOYD-JONES, international bestselling author of The Drowned Woods“At the Speed of Lies is an intense read, giving a chilling glimpse into the world of how conspiracies and disinformation spread. A compelling and timely debut.”—CINDY PON, author of Want“Cindy L. Otis weaves a disturbing cautionary tale with expert precision. This book should be required reading for everyone.”—JENNIFER MOFFETT, author of Those Who Prey To those feeling left behind: There’s no onedestination, path, or timeline. This is for you. ContentsPraise for At the Speed of LiesTitle PageDedicationChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-OneChapter Twenty-TwoChapter Twenty-ThreeChapter Twenty-FourChapter Twenty-FiveChapter Twenty-SixChapter Twenty-SevenChapter Twenty-EightChapter Twenty-NineChapter ThirtyAuthor’s NoteAcknowledgmentsAbout the AuthorCopyright At least a dozen times a day, social media presents me with the chance to be a really terrible person, if I want to be. That’s the thought that hits me at the boys’ cross-country tryouts as I scroll through the pictures I just took and discover a series capturing the exact moment Michael Lai’s shoelaces came undone, tripping him. Followed by the brutal few seconds after, when the four runners around him all collided and then landed in a giant tangled heap of arms and legs in the middle of the track.As one of the fallen runners limps off the track, I flip through the pictures again before opening my Instagram account, The Whine. I could post the one of Michael Lai’s humiliation that enabled junior Asher King’s distant, distant third-place finish simply because he managed to avoid the pileup. Like, the-winner-and-the-runner-up-were-already-at-the-water-stand-when-he-finished distant third.I finally settle on a few less dramatic ones of runners crossing the finish line from the accident-free previous heats, even though the pictures of the collision are pretty epic.I stare at my screen for a minute before the right caption comes to me. Then my fingers fly as I tag the new boys’ cross-country team. I look up from my phone to find Asher collapsed near me, guzzling water from a silver bottle and trying to ignore the argument two runners tripped by the errant shoelaces are having with Coach Swensen, who’s making notes on his clipboard with a frown. It’s obvious to anyone watching that the results from the last heat were not what he wanted for his new team.Even though Asher and I have chemistry together and are in the same grade, we’ve never spoken before, but somehow I find myself saying “Congrats” to him after I’ve hit post.Maybe it’s the embarrassed hunching of his shoulders or my love for a good underdog story that makes me say it. But Asher really is only an underdog when it comes to cross-country, because his parents own King Country Vineyards, a massive empire of vineyards, wineries, and tasting rooms across half of western New York. At least a third of the kids at school’s parents work for the Kings in some way.Asher turns toward me, looking a little dazed, his normally pale skin flushed red. “Thanks. I can’t believe I’m on the team.” He grins more widely than I would expect from a guy who only made the team because of an accident.Coach Swensen blows his whistle in three long blasts to try to clear the field, but the runners who fell won’t budge. Asher gets to his feet, suddenly becoming double my height, and sways a little.“How long have you been running?” I ask.Because of The Whine and my 3,272 followers (and counting), I make it my business to know everything, and I’m almost completely sure Asher wasn’t on the team last year. Plus, his performance today screams newbie.By the watercooler, one of the assistant coaches has joined in the argument over the fall and their voices get uncomfortably loud. If it turns into an actual fight, I may have to rethink my plan to take the high road for my post on The Whine, but I kind of can’t tear my gaze away from Asher King.Asher’s brown eyes flick to the scene and then back at me. “As long as I can remember. I mean, if you’re not running, what are you even doing with your life?”He chuckles like we’re sharing some kind of inside joke, but then he looks down at me, in my wheelchair, and his smile crumbles.His face was already red from the race, but it goes positively scarlet. “Uh, crap, I mean … there are plenty of other things people can do with their lives that I’m sure are, uh, very satisfying and … Oh god, I didn’t mean it …”I can feel my jaw tighten and my shoulders rise defensively. “No worries. I’ll see you later.”When I turn around, my best friend, Ximena, is on the other side of the chain-link fence waiting for me. Thank god.“Quuuu,” Ximena calls through cupped hands like an announcer yelling “goaaaaaal” during one of those soccer games her brothers always have loudly playing in the living room at her house.“Be honest,” I say when I’m near enough. “Are you here for me or just trying to scope out all the guys in itty-bitty shorts?”“Duh, the guys in the shorts, obviously.” She grins.“Creeper.”“Don’t tell Max. That’s something my boyfriend should have to learn on his own.”“It’s adorable that