Page 13 of Sweet Ruin

“Hey,” I say. “Did you upload new pictures from your work thing?”

She stops.

“I saw a notification,” I continue. “Didn’t have a chance to look yet. It’s been nuts in here.”

Vivian’s face goes the color of the royal icing.

She laughs to cover it up, but it’s too late. I saw it all.

Proof.

“Oh,” she says. “God. No. That’s—that’s just that stupid syncing thing. It’s so annoying. Don’t even bother looking.”

“Ah. Okay. I’ll probably never get to it anyway,” I reassure her.

“Right.” She nods far too many times. “Right, no, you’re so busy. Okay. Okay, love you, thank you for the cookies.”

The bell rings one final time.

She came in like a movie star and left like a track star. Through the glass, I watch her get to the car, hurl the boxes into the back seat, and get in.

She sits in the driver’s seat for a while without starting the engine. Her thumbs are a blur over her phone.

Then the car pulls out.

Priya comes up a moment later. “Was that your sister?”

“Yeah.”

“She didn’t pay.”

“She never does.”

A second later, my phone vibrates in my apron pocket.

I pull it out, already knowing what I’ll find. And sure enough...

Vivian Dorsey removed three videos from the Dorsey Sisters shared album.

I open it.

The grid loads. Once again, I see the dog in the sweater, the champagne on the yacht, the villa in Tulum, the bathtub with the rose petals.

And then the bottom of the album, where those three tiles used to be, is just where the album ends.

Gone. All three of them.

Or at least, that’s what Vivian thinks.

I dump the screenshots I took earlier into a new folder, along with the backed-up copies of the videos I saved.

My phone asks me to name the new folder. I don’t have to think long to come up with an answer.

Dorsey Family Christmas Eve 2026: Slideshow.

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DELILAH