The days that followed were a blur of pure adrenaline and skin-on-skin friction. Henry and I were taking every dirty chance we got—in the backyard, the living room, even the cab of his truck. We were at it like rabbits, our filthy secret consuming every quiet moment we had. Henry was going out of his way to get his hands on me, even with Mom’s oblivious presence hovering over the house like a constant shadow.

One afternoon, I caught Mom’s voice drifting from the kitchen. She was on the phone, her tone sharp and professional. I pressed my ear to the drywall, listening closely.

"Yes, the presentation is ready. I’m...