I moved to Eastern Washington at the age of 22, settling into a raw, rural world of endless farms, shimmering lakes, and dusty mines. The air smelled of fresh-cut hay and pine, but with my long hair whipping in the wind and out-of-state plates, I felt every suspicious glance. I wasn’t one for bars, so connections came slowly. I spent hot summer days at a small lake nearby, the sun baking my skin on the pebbled beach, cool...

I was still eighteen, buzzing from those secret rides and the explosive discoveries with him, but my girlfriend—sweet, shy Henrietta with her long brown hair and curious smile—was the one who occupied my daytime thoughts. We’d been dating a few months, stealing kisses behind the school or in the park, our hands growing bolder each time. One Friday evening, her parents were out late. She invited me over, her voice tremblin...