Then, he noticed something. The file wasn't on the cloud yet. The "Upload Status" icon on Maya's open browser tab was spinning—it was only at 12%.
The flickering progress bar of the video file— SISTER_HUMILIATES_YOU.mp4 —felt like a countdown to social extinction. SISTER HUMILIATES YOU.mp4
His hand trembled as he moved the cursor. He didn't delete it. That would be too obvious; Maya would just re-render it. Instead, he opened a video converter tool he’d used for school projects. He swapped the 450MB file with a different one he had on his thumb drive—a ten-minute loop of Maya’s own "secret" hobby: her middle-school phase where she dressed up as a Victorian ghost and did interpretive dances to weather channel music. Then, he noticed something
The video opened with a high-definition close-up of Leo’s face from three nights ago. He was fast asleep, mouth slightly open, cuddling a giant, plush narwhal he’d kept since he was six. The lighting was professional—Maya must have used her ring light. The flickering progress bar of the video file—