SARAH

Three nights later Mom fell asleep on the couch watching her shows.

Michael waited until her soft snoring filled the living room, then looked at me with that dark, hungry stare.

“Upstairs. Our bedroom.”

My stomach flipped. “But… Mom’s right there.”

“Exactly.” He stood up and grabbed my wrist. “And you’re going to be a good girl and take it anyway.”

He pulled me up the stairs and into the master bedroom. The lamp on Mom’s nightstand was still on, casting a soft glow. She was curled up under the blankets, dead to the world.

Michael closed the door but left it unlocked.

“Strip,” he whispered.

I pulled my...