I sat at the table with his c*m still in me.
That was the consequence. Not a door slamming. Not Mom screaming. A plate of eggs and a family iPad face-up next to the fruit bowl, charging, unlocked, the screen dark until someone touched it.
Mom poured coffee. Dad read something on his phone. Sebastian sat across from me like he had promised, eating toast, ankle hooked around the chair leg so our knees did not touch.
I did not look at him.
I looked at the iPad.
The preview bloomed for half a second when a notification slid over the lock. A pale thumbnail. Skin. A bed that was not mine. Then the banner covered it.
1 new video in Shared.
Mom’s hand was already moving.
“Who keeps dumping stuff in the family album,” she said, laughing, not suspicious yet. “I swear it’s all receipts and th
