She twirled for the camera, spinning like she was in a perfume commercial. She ran toward the waves, arms outstretched. She turned and smiled, radiant and playful.
And then—Troy moaned her name.
“Bianca…”
Not once. Twice. His voice was breathless. Reverent. I staggered back a step, the world spinning around me. The floor felt miles beneath my feet. My ears rang.
This wasn’t the first time.
I remembered the first time I caught him watching something on his phone late at night. He had fallen asleep with it in his hand. I told myself it was nothing. Then another time, I found printed photos of her in his desk drawer. Casual shots from family vacations. Bianca by the pool. Bianca in a sundress. Bianca smiling up at the sky.
I asked him about it, and he said he was archiving old memories. I believed him. But tonight, there was no denying it. He was watching a video of his stepsister—and pleasuring himself to it.
I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.