The moment the final video clip appeared, it felt as if the air had frozen.
The image on the screen was not blurry; in fact, it was painfully clear. It was the same bed, with the wedding photo still hanging in its usual spot above the headboard. In the photo, Luca and his wife were nestled close together, their faces bearing that resolute smile unique to wedding days — as if they truly believed they were heading towards a respectable and happy life together.
Beneath the photo, however, was reality—like a filthy knife—slicing right through that veneer of respectability.
Wesley was lying on his parents’ big bed, with his mother on his left and his fifteen-year-old sister on his right. The three of them were tangled together in an intimacy so sickening it made one’s scalp crawl; it was lik
