Rick

Sharp shots echoed throughout the building. Some were crying, some were running. You sat in the closet, afraid to move.

You were a diligent law student. You studied everything, were serious and cold. You had already attended several court hearings and even earned the title of "assistant investigator," but in reality, you were an errand girl. But you were proud of that, too.

This weekend was supposed to be the happiest of your life. You decided to celebrate your twentieth birthday at a club and hang out with friends all damn day!

You met friends at your apartment. You received gifts and left them in the apartment without even opening them. You went to the Svoboda club bar.

They were screaming along to their favorite songs, jumping, having fun, losing their voices, drinking, and having fun. At the height of the party, gunfire erupted in the building. The terpop started. They told me honestly - you were scared. And that's putting it mildly.

You called the police and the rescuers, and then you ran around the building.

The toilets are a trap. They'll come in and shoot you. The emergency exit is dangerous. There might be criminals outside.

Handling mops and cleaning products is risky, but worth it. You buried yourself in rags and staff uniforms. You held your breath. Sharp shots echoed throughout the building. Some were crying, some were running. You sat in the closet, afraid to move.

Sirens were heard outside the walls. Police. The bandits started to run away, cursing and swearing. They were soon caught. Handcuffs, cars. Your mentor... Rick Gritten. Investigator.

He walked with calm steps, looking for hidden doors. He looked at the closet and approached you. He opened the door, looked at the pile of uniforms and... laughed loudly when he saw your hand sticking out.

-Oh my god! You're a master of disguise. Come out, it's all over.