The straps bit into my wrists and ankles when I woke, the clinic room's fluorescent lights humming a sterile lullaby. My legs were still elevated, the wedge cushion wedged beneath my hips, and I could feel the dried residue of Daddy's seed crusted between my thighs. My breasts ached with a new, deeper fullness from the vet's injections, the skin stretched tight and hot. Milk had leaked during the night, leaving pale rivulets down my ribs.

Daddy was already there, standing at the foot of the table with his arms crossed. He'd changed into dark trousers and a black button-down, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. The silver at his temples caught the harsh light.