The Tenant

by Freida McFadden

I can’t let anything happen to Goldy. She’s our practice child, and if we let her die, that seems like an ominous harbinger for the future.

He’s lying on the bed, a hint of a satisfied smile on his lips. It was average for me, but it was a wild ride for him. He thanked me when it was over, which was actually very sweet. His arms are lying on either side of him, very still. And also, his throat has been split by a bloody gash.

Anyway, I’m not a terrible person. I gave Elijah a good time before I cut his throat open. He literally went out with a bang.