Look for underwear.

It takes you a while to find the drawer where Helen keeps her underwear. She’s been taking care of her own laundry for years, and her room has always been off limits. You’ve always trusted your daughter, even if you’ve never trusted her friends.

But now, as you pick and discard one after another of the most risqué pieces of clothing you’ve ever seen, you wonder if you know her at all.

“She’s been wearing this stuff all this time?” you say, looking in horror at a particularly frilly strip of cloth that barely covers anything. “Are you kidding me? When this is all over she’s grounded for life.”

When this is over… when you’re a man again.

What it… what if that never happens?

What if you’re stuck like this? In this body?

What if you need to wear panties and lingerie for the rest of your –

“Stop it! You’re Myles Teague, damnit! You’ll find a way out of this!”

And the first step to doing that… is picking a pair of panties to wear.