What happened next sent me into shock.

Mom didn’t scream. She didn’t even scramble backward in horror. Her eyes, glassy and heavy from the fever, drifted from my face down to where our bodies were fused together in the shadows. She squinted, her head tilting in slow confusion. The heavy dose of cold medicine had clearly turned her brain to mush.

"Fiona..." she croaked, her voice paper-thin. "Why are you... up? Are you sick, too?"

I couldn't breathe, let alone move. My hand was still locked tight around Henry’s bare dick, my knuckles brushing the sleeping bag right next to her leg. I could feel him throbbing against my palm,...