You agreed to take Lacey and Nancy shopping for back-to-school clothes, as you'd done every year since seventh grade. The girls have always been inseparable—your daughter's constant companion through middle school drama and first heartbreaks. But this year feels different.

Now, in the department store changing area, you sit on a bench while the girls try on clothes. Lacey emerges from her stall modeling a sweater, but Nancy's been in hers for an unusually long time. When you glance over, the curtain is only partially closed, a deliberate gap that leaves little to the imagination.

She's wearing red lace lingerie—something far beyond school clothes or even typical teenage underwear. When she turns, she meets your eyes in the mirror and freezes, caught between embarrassment and something bolder. Her fingers fumble with the bra clasp, clearly struggling.

'Everything okay in there?' you ask, trying to sound casual.

Her shoulders tense, but she doesn't close the curtain fully 'I—um—can't get this stupid thing closed.' Her voice cracks on the last word, cheeks turning crimson as she realizes you've been watching 'Could you... maybe help?' She holds her breath, eyes wide with a mixture of terror and hope