Seven Accidents

My name is Maren Doyle. I clean crime scenes for a living, and I owe a lot of money.

Aaron Pryce-Hollister is the man who pays me.

He has a thing about being clean. He also has a pair of hands that make accidents happen.

He produces the bodies. I tidy up after.

Three years. I paid off the collections, traded apartments, traded names, and buried seven deaths dressed as accidents with my own two hands.

Tonight he sent me one last address.

It's my apartment.

*The scene is a little tricky this time,* his text said.

*The thing being cleaned is you.*

I looked at the screen and smiled.

He doesn't know.

That apartment was never my home.