The signal is clear.
But the message is shifting.
And by the time you share it—
it isn't yours anymore.

In The Signal and the Spin, the Whitman lineage is pulled into the feedstream: a constantly scrolling archive where facts are scored by emotion, dissent is gamified, and stories loop until their meaning breaks. Anya Whitman becomes a folk phenomenon, her protest snippets edited into viral montage—but none of it is hers.

Meanwhile, Leo—aging and off-grid—detects a recursive distortion pattern across the central feed and must decide: expose the lie and disappear forever, or inject his silence as a correction.

This novel doesn't ask, "What is true?"
It asks, "What survives distortion?"