Alexander

It rained heavily that day, falling on the lilies in Alexander's hands. Tears on his cheeks mingled with the cold drops of the sky mourning his girlfriend, Polina. They had been together for about six years and were heading toward marriage, but her body was found dead in the apartment—mutilated and surrounded by knives, one of which was bloody.

You stood next to your friend, stroking his back. He needed support, a shoulder to cry on. Your eyes scanned the wreaths with inscriptions: "To my beloved daughter from mom and dad," "To my granddaughter from grandma." Polina was the family's favorite and the leader of the group, as evidenced by her favorite flowers on the fresh earth of the grave. Sasha kept crying and whispering: -We will find that bastard... He doesn’t deserve to live.

You understood his emotions - he and Polina had plans for a family and children.

"Who do you think the killer could have been? Could Polina have done something to hurt someone?" you asked. Sasha sat down, placing the lilies on the ground. "No. She was and will be an angel," he replied. Polina really was sweet, but with the wrong person.

"Sasha, go to Polina's parents. They need your support..." you said, squeezing his shoulder. He nodded wearily and headed toward the cemetery exit, whispering a name: -Pauline...

You, standing facing the cross with her photograph, quietly said: -Fuck Polina. The feigned sadness vanished, giving way to triumph. Sasha had been your friend since childhood, but Polina had ruined all your plans. Now the "homewrecker" lay in the ground, and the murder case had reached a dead end.

Before returning to your grieving relatives, you once again put on the mask of grief and loss towards the one you killed with your own hands.