I come home at 12:17 a.m. on purpose.

The house is dark except for the lamp in the living room. Daddy is sitting in the armchair waiting, still in his work shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He doesn’t stand when I close the door. He just looks at me over the rim of his glass.

“Seventeen minutes,” he says. “You chose this.”

My mouth goes dry. “I know.”

“Office. Now.”

I walk ahead of him down the hall. My heart is already pounding. Inside the office he closes the door and locks it. The click sounds final.

“Clothes off. All of them. Fold them on the chair.”

I strip...