I stood on the path for a long time after Nathan went inside.

The water from the lake was still dripping down my legs, cold against my skin, but I barely felt it.

My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. His words kept looping in my head: “Good. Very good.” and the way his eyes had dropped to my body for that half-second before he looked away.

I know, I should feel ashamed, that was Nathan. Brooke’s dad. The man who used to let me sleep on his couch when my parents fought. The one who drove us to school when it rained. He’d...