Three days had passed since Grandpa Derek left her trembling in the kitchen. Three days of Jackson throwing his shoes at her head when they weren't polished right, three nights of him rolling off her silently after rutting between her dry thighs.

The clock ticked past midnight. Jackson snored facedown on their stained mattress, one arm flung over her pillow like a prison bar. Stiles slid out from under the sheets, her thin nightdress clinging to her sweaty skin. The fabric was sheer enough to show the dark shadow of her pussy beneath the hem as she tiptoed past the couch where Jackson had left his empty soju bottles.