Property might be theft. But the housing market is murder.
My name is Al.
I live in wealthy people’s second homes while their real owners are away.
I don’t rob them, I don’t damage anything… I’m more an unofficial house-sitter than an actual criminal.
Life is good.
Or it was – until last night, when my friends and I broke into the wrong place, on the wrong day, and someone wound up dead.
And now … now we’re in a great deal of trouble.
