The summer heat was heavy, thick and still in the old house. My stepdad, Dean, usually wasn't home this much. He was an architect, always flying off to new cities for big projects. But this summer, he was here. All the time. It was strange. But I liked it. He was handsome, with eyes that saw everything and a quiet way that made me feel safe. I was sixteen. My body felt new. It had curves now, and big breasts that felt heavy. I didn't know what to do with them.

He worked in his study most days. I tried to draw in the living room. Our talks used to...