This wasn't meant to happen.

Emma had grown up in The Shitts.

One menial job after another. Scraping by. Keeping her head down.

Then she finally landed something steady, a bona fide Postie.

A uniform. A route. A paycheque that almost covered the rent. It was supposed to be steady.

Then it all went figuratively to shit, in literal Shitt.

One dead client.
One moderate concussion.
One wake-up in a stranger's clinic.

[One of the PC choices in my silly little self-indulgent visual novel]