Octavia needed to think and she needed to think fast. She couldn’t just go out a buy the bleach, people could see her. She couldn’t be seen on camera, she was missing god damnit. No doubt the corpse laying next to her shoe couldn’t just disappear.

Jesus, she was stuck. Of course her mom wouldn’t have given her any cleaning supplies for this kill; no, just the knives, rope and gloves. Glove that had ripped, glove that have no use anymore, gloves that could get her into so much trouble.

She really need that bleach, no one could know that she was here, that Octavia Harper was in fact not missing, just a murderer.

Or worse, that Octavia Harper doesn’t exist, she never did. That would be a long conversation with everyone who was in her life.

Her phone buzzed.

__

_How’s it going? _Leave it to her mother to treat a crime like a barbecue.

_Need bleach, now!_

__

_Can it wait five minutes, kind of busy._

__

_With what?_

__

_Your husband, believe it or not._

_WHAT??_ No, Will could not be there, he thought she was an orphan. This could not be happening, not today.

_Relax, he doesn’t know, he’s just maning a security checkpoint. Proper fit, I see why you married him._

__

_Just get me the damn bleach._

Shoving her phone back in her pocket, Octavia couldn’t move. Anything she touched could be used as evidence and she could not remember what the hell she had touched already.

Next time, she thought, next time she’ll make sure her parents packed bleach.

She couldn’t hide behind the pretense that there wouldn’t be a next time, there would be a next time, she would be helping her parents kill for the rest of her life.

She would never see her daughter grow up, she will never see how Willem would gray, never see them bicker over dating rules at the dinner table. She would never tell them she loved them again.