Saturday morning broke crisp and quiet, a delivery truck’s hum cutting through the silence. Anna jolted awake in her childhood bed, heart lurching as the doorbell rang, sharp and insistent. Her phone flashed 9:30 a.m., damn it, my breakfast prep chore is an hour late. Dread tightened her chest as she pulled on sweatpants, no panties, and a t-shirt, rushing downstairs. Chris stood at the door, signing for packages, his bro...

Guiding Anna: Part 1 Anna lingered in the driveway, her black hair glinting in the April dusk, her blue eyes scanning the familiar brick of her childhood home. At 22, she felt like a wreck, dragged back by chaos. Her thin frame shivered in a tight tank top—no bra, a reckless choice from that frantic morning—her 34B breasts straining against it, big nipples jutting out, stiff and shameless in the cool air. Jeans molded to...