She looked at a gray-haired, stately man in a long coat, who was rapidly reducing the distance.

Stop clown, Alisa Doletskaya! The angular features of the face hardened. - Changed name and location. Do you think that I won't find you?

For the first time in these strange, loss-filled days, she smiled faintly.

What for?

Why aren't you answering your mom's calls?

For those who think hard, I repeat - escaped from the grasp of Sergei. - What for? Today the invasion of caring parents? Came to support me, dad?

She blurted out the last word. Rage gave strength. Disgust smoothly ignited forgotten resentment and a ton of scandals.

We were worried, - sounded caring hoarse. When they found out what happened...

In general, so, - she cleared her throat and took more air into her lungs. - Tell your mom and remember it yourself. So that your spirit is not on the threshold of our apartment! Yes, dad, ours! We bought a chic apartment, and didn’t hang around rented all our lives, as everyone wanted us to.

Ira, we were informed that...

My name is Alice! I changed my name so that nothing would bind or remind you of you - I tore off my glasses with a sharp movement. “And remember how I came to borrow money, because Denis invested in the business and went bankrupt. Borrow! Don't even take it for free. But you sent me and said you wouldn't even give me a ruble. Now it's my turn: fuck you!

Alice, - Sergey cut off in a whisper, again concluding in a semblance of hugs.

She looked back for the first time, realizing that she had become the center of attention of some people who were surprised to assess the scene that had played out.

She quickly closed her eyes behind her glasses. She looked at her confused father and, breathing heavily, wandered to the car. Dad stayed behind, and she felt the look in the back, which seemed to pierce through.

I hurried to hide in the car, quickly hide from everything and everyone. A friend took the driver's seat, and the car started off briskly. She looked out the window for the last time and for the first time felt something like pity. Dad stood still, stooping from the cold and watching his daughter's car.

*****

I had no idea that the epic footage from the movies is true.

I barely remember the day and month. Didn't care about the time of day. The bare trees, the melting snow and the cold of the terrace reminded me that it was spring outside. Alcohol acted out of spite, forcing absolutely everything out of my head, but not what I needed. He did not destroy with a drunken frenzy the thoughts of the death of her husband and the emptiness of the apartment.

She drunkenly understood only one thing - she could not cope with what had happened.

Transparent, almost icy drops hit the white skin. The second hour I sat in the shower stall, looking at the wall clock above the mirror. She followed the blue arrow with her eyes, thinking that for someone the arrow had already stopped.

With horror in her eyes, she realized that people live on. With sincere envy I was interested in how they do it. It seemed that her soul was dead, and her heartbeat was temporary.

She got out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. She walked into the dressing room, leaving wet footprints on the tiles.

She pulled on the T-shirt that first fell out of the closet and denim shorts. Wet hair, without combing, gathered in a bun.

As a black shadow, she walked along the corridor, passing the bedroom in which she could not be. The silence of the walls was depressing and once a luxurious apartment with a new renovation, turned into a dump. Broken objects, scattered things, half-empty bottles, cigarette butts - perfectly demonstrated the psychological state.

She lifted the glass that lay under the table and poured whiskey. With a crash, she put down the bottle and grabbed the glass, as if she were trying to erase her memory and not think about her husband. The knock on the door prevented him from taking the desired sip.

She took a deep breath and stood up with difficulty, making her way to the front door. She opened it ... and immediately regretted the habit of not looking through the peephole.

I didn't expect anything else, of course...

He glanced warily at the wide glass in her hand.

Gray, what do you need? greeted the guest with annoyance.

I came to visit, - he answered, brazenly crossing the threshold without an invitation. “You don’t answer calls and you probably don’t dry out. I brought you groceries.

She glanced indifferently at the huge bags stuffed with food.

Poisoned?

"Very funny," he snorted and walked towards the kitchen.It would be better if he brought cigarettes, - she threw after him. - Eat your own food.

She drained her glass and, holding onto the walls, returned to the living room. She collapsed onto the couch, gazing at the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table. Sergei entered the room under the click of a lighter and grimaced in displeasure. He sat down beside him and surveyed the mess appraisingly.

The man took a deep breath and interlocked his fingers.

Damn, Gray! Again these gestures? What happened again?

She stood up, looking at her friend. Although the semi-darkness of the room and a dose of alcohol rather clouded this attentiveness.

“The case was closed,” the friend announced timidly. - There will be no investigation. The killer will not be found.

The living room was plunged into cold silence and semi-darkness. Alice took a fanatical puff and threw back her head, exhaling smoke.

“It’s time to cut off your head,” she mockingly broke the silence. You bring bad news every time. I do not like it.

You have to pick up the phone. I would give the news over the phone.

And what did they say? She glared at the flame of her cigarette. Is this a suicide and the case is solved?

They didn't say anything. And so everything is clear. They were given a hang up, because someone does not need this investigation.

Cool uncle, then? She looked around the living room in disgust, taking a puff.

She blew out smoke noisily on purpose, feeling a wave of pain sweep over her.

According to the will, everything belongs to you, - Sergey hesitated. – Company, shares, production…

She knocked the ashes onto the wooden table and narrowed her eyes at her friend. She understood what he was leading the conversation to, but she needed something completely different. She still doubted the man's innocence in the murder, but Seryozha must have thought that he was trusted and that she was helpless.

“I am an artist, Seryozha,” she answered softly and on purpose. - I don’t rummage about your construction.

"I'll help you get settled," he said confidently. - Let's start with the basics. I’ll tell you how everything works, what principles we work on, how interviews go.

“You better tell us who you collaborated with,” she accompanied the words with a stream of acrid smoke. - Maybe Denis did not share something with someone? Maybe the competitors were coming, huh? Denis always said that there are no enemies and everything is fine, - she took a breath. - He was wrong.

I don't think you should bother...

I will take revenge, - she leaned forward as much as possible. - And you will help! How once Denis helped you. You were a nobody, and now you proudly call yourself a businessman.

Do you think it's that easy? He stood up and glared at Alice. - Find the right person, get close to him, and then kill him. So easy, you think? If he stopped the investigation at the click of a button!

“We need to make a list of suspects,” she stubbornly ignored the warnings. You were the last one who spoke to him. Judging by the last words of Denis ... - she closed her eyes for a second, holding back tears. He knew this bastard.

You're drunk, - he waved his hand, as if driving away her words, and walked towards the exit. - We'll agree tomorrow. And eat something.

Tomorrow I'll say the same thing! - broke away from the place, catching up with the man. “In cases like this, they kill for money!” What do you know? Who were the problems?

She lightly touched the man's arm, ready to stop him if he silently moved on. He closed his eyes for a moment, then gave her a narrowed look.

Tomorrow come to the office, - briefly answered and hurried to leave the apartment.

*****

I was in a hurry to put myself in order and go to the office as soon as possible. She noted that the presence of a friend and a new goal eased the pain.

After Seryozha left, cleaning began in the apartment. Empty bottles, pizza boxes, cigarette butts and other dirt were removed. Aired out the room. I cooked dinner and then took a shower. Normal, and not sitting on a pallet and looking at the clock. Carefully washing away, it seemed, the stubborn smell of cigarettes and intoxication.

Early in the morning, dressed in black jeans and a blazer, she sat in front of a mirror in the living room. A sip of coffee was replaced by quality movements of the eyelash brush. The same kind of art. But now she painted eyes. The final touch on the lower eyelid and Alice reached for dark red lipstick.

When the image was drawn and completed with high-heeled boots and a black coat, she walked to the exit with a firm step.

I drove up to the office, but the hardest thing was getting out of the car. "He was killed outside the office." The cutting words replayed in my head. She lowered the window and looked up at the tall blue building. Breathing involuntarily quickened.

This is the brainchild and fruit of many years of work and attempts by Denis, and he had to call in the parking lot every day. Go to the entrance, carrying plans and strategies for business development in your head.

With trembling fingers, she opened the car door and stepped out. The heel sounded in contact with the masonry. I put the car on the alarm and wandered to the revolving door.

"Alice," a deep voice called out with mock joy. Are you here too?

She stopped, scratching the masonry with her heel, and reluctantly turned around, knowing whom she would see.