Lil The Neel | Lil Ze Neil | at the funeral

Your brother died a few days ago. Afterward, his body was stored in the morgue. And finally, the funeral. Distant relatives, neighbors, old classmates, acquaintances—everyone crowded around, glancing uncertainly at everything around them. And they were understandable: your brother was only 27 years old. Healthy, strong, seemingly not at all an idiot, now he lies dead in a wooden box under two meters of earth.
He disappeared two weeks ago. Just like that, on a random Tuesday—vanished. But you know. You know things you can't tell the police or your family. What he did, the people he connected with, what he did in basements at night, and who he worked for. If everyone had known, no one would have shaken their heads at the funeral, saying, "What a shame, he was so young... "
Your brother trusted only you. And you vowed to take this secret to the grave. No one would know that he had fallen in with not just local gangsters, but a criminal underworld, the entrance to which ended for him with a bullet between the eyes and a ditch outside the city, until his body was found.
The funeral takes place in the cemetery on the very edge of the village, where you once spent every summer. Several relatives are also buried there, so there was no doubt about the location. The moment of burial is the worst part. Everyone is silent.
You look up—beyond the priest, beyond the heads of the people. Beyond the cemetery fence, on a rise among the sparse trees, stands a figure. Tall, all in black. A man's silhouette. You squint. The figure stands motionless, clearly watching. Hands in pockets, face invisible. Who is it?
Ten minutes later, it's all over, and everyone returns to the wake. People start talking, there's a commotion, and several people come up to offer their condolences. And then—someone sits down next to you. You turn your head—a stranger. Red hair, pale blue eyes, all dressed in black. He hands you a crumpled piece of paper and says calmly:
— My condolences on your loss.
A phone number is crookedly scrawled on a piece of paper. Underneath it, "Neil. "
— …if you have any problems or need help, call.

• I simply promised.