Carelessly soaked up in bed for a while and got up. The work was really worth finishing, until the last touches of patience were worn out by the customer. She pulled her hair back into a bouffant bun and drank her coffee on the way to the bathroom.

The cup landed on the washbasin and the blue silk pajamas on the floor. The sound of hot drops beating against the bottom filled the cabin.

Struggled with the reluctance to complete the picture. The work was chosen by vocation, but the time when there was not enough money for basic things is over. The time when her paintings, at least a little, but saved the situation.

Parents did not want to help the young family. Some - because the daughter married a poor man and these are her problems, while others - the son married a major, so let him get out, because he disobeyed.

But they managed and learned to take everything from life. Forgetting and scoring on any relatives.

A half hour later, the spacious living room turned into an art studio and a source of chaos.

She barely perceptibly touched the almost completed canvas with a brush. I wiped off the blue paint that had stained the tattoo on my wrist and continued to work.

Denis left, and this allowed him to smoke while painting, without hiding from his husband on the terrace.

She threw the brush on the coffee table and hurried to flick the lighter. The brown paper succumbed to fire, and everything that hid under it and poisoned the lungs - Alice was not interested.

A new puff was accompanied by a knock on the door. Denis has the keys, and the promised three hours of work have not passed yet. But just in case, she put out her cigarette and took the ashtray out onto the terrace. The doorbell rang again, and in a second it turned into an annoying trill.

Why so much impatience?

She muttered to herself as she walked quickly into the hallway. She clicked the lock and opened the door.

Alice, hello, - Sergey greeted, lowering his hand and leaving the call alone.

Hello, come in, - she opened the door wider, inviting a friend. – Where is Denis? Have you come from the office?

"No," his Adam's apple twitched nervously.

The faint smile on her lips turned into a flat line of lips.

Let's go to the living room, - either asked, or suggested Sergei.

But seeing Alice's confusion, the first moved into the room.

Can you explain what's wrong with you? Did something happen to you? And where is Denis? - Annoyed strewed with questions, following the man.

Sergey did not even bother to take off his coat or take off his shoes. He sat down on the sofa and looked timidly at Alice.

Breathing quickened. Silently watched his frightened look, having no idea what he was afraid of. The man let out a breath, not knowing where to put his hands. Now he clasped his fingers into the castle, then again lowered his palms to his knees.

Gray, damn it, you say what's going on? - hissed, unable to withstand his antics.

Sit down.

She rolled her eyes but complied. Now I saw that his words were stuck in my throat, and every time the man replaced them with heavy sighs.

If I smoke, you won't tell Denis? - she asked slyly and ran towards the terrace.

"Denis is gone," a stony voice sounded behind him. “He was killed outside the office.

She froze, afraid to accept what she heard. Breathing disappeared, and tears involuntarily came to the eyes. They quickly rolled down her cheeks, closing her eyes. For everything ahead. Swallowing nervously, she turned around. Feverishly inhaling the stale air, she ran her hands over her cheeks. She looked at her friend, but it was foolish to demand a refutation. His whole appearance, facial expression proved that this was true. Yes, mentally healthy people do not joke like that.

In an instant, she realized only one thing: her husband would never again enter this door, as the man opposite did. I did it in order to inform ... To inform that her husband will not bring breakfast and will no longer promise to return in three hours.

Tears closed my eyes, but still I saw Sergey approaching. She held her trembling hands out in front of her and stepped back.

Grabbing the first brush that came across, she swung at the canvas, leaving a longitudinal scratch on it. The second, third, and beyond... Destroyed the drawing, turning creativity into scraps of paint. Like the news of her husband's death, her soul turned into pieces.

Alice, stop it!

I felt the pressure of strong hands. She escaped from the gentle grip of the man, continuing to destroy everything, accompanying her actions with sobs and lonely cries of disbelief. The heavy board that served as a palette flew deep into the living room, almost hitting Sergei. Everything that came to hand - flew. Driven into walls or swept away other objects.

Strength ended faster than the number of whole items in the living room. She fell to her knees and covered her face with her hands.

Who killed? - she barely managed to speak, swallowing sobs. - Who killed? – repeated louder and fiercely looked at the man.

*****

A woman in a black headscarf fell, two men managed to pick her up and her knees did not touch the ground. Alice watched in disgust as her husband's funeral turned into a cheap spectacle. And that made everything inside shrink even more. Burned out. Worthless people who did not want to know what was happening to their son and how he survived kissed the ground around his coffin, reveling in false grief.

They looked angrily in her direction, probably blaming everything that had happened.

Alice pressed her lips together tightly, trying to stop their trembling. Black-lensed glasses hid dark make-up, which in turn hid sleepless nights and empty days of madness.

The kites, who loudly call themselves Denis's relatives, must know that she is strong. She will stand and it is better not to approach her.

The priest fell silent, and the woman in the headscarf went into hysterics again. Her scream was furious. Alice lowered her spectacles and cast a malicious glance from under her brows. The woman turned the volume down but remained in character.

During the preparations and the chaotic realization that her husband was no more, she forgot about his relatives. She regretted that she had not hired security, who would not let these people even to the cemetery gates.

The black coat hid the convulsive movements of the chest. To stop the tremor in her hands, she clasped her fingers together. The worst was about to happen. When a loved one, who a few days ago habitually woke up and brought breakfast, is closed and lowered into a pit. When the sound of the dull beating of the earth on the lid freezes in the ears. And when a person is literally put a cross.

She could barely stand on her feet, occasionally feeling Serezha's touch on her elbow. The man seemed to determine how much longer she would stand.

And dressed up, you bastard! – caustically responded the father of the deceased. - How is the whore.

She ignored the lunge and took a step forward. People were dispersing, and Alice nervously waited for solitude. On trembling legs, she approached a pile of earth and collapsed helplessly.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, slowly trickling out from under the black frame. She sniffled and tried to catch her breath. His head was spinning, but the world around him seemed frozen and meaningless. Another breath in, another breath out, and she screamed. Leaning down and punching the ground. Sobbing to a sick hoarseness in the throat, splashing out all the pain and hatred.

Alice, - Seryozha gently shook his shoulder. - Alice, please.

The light touch vanished, managing to cut her off.

She took a deep breath and ran her fingers down her cheeks.

With difficulty, she got to her feet, feeling her friend holding her hand. He took Alice by the forearm and, lightly hugging her shoulder with the other hand, directed her towards the path. It seemed that if a man let go, she would collapse after her loved one.

With a heavy and shuffling gait, she walked in the direction where Sergei was leading.

Each step is like a new test. Like a discovery that learned to walk. Not disdaining help, she held on to a man. Literally needing it to get to the car.

“You need to clean yourself up,” his friend advised in a flat voice.

Step. Another step. Breathing was restored, but not for long.

Why is it dead? Her voice was hoarse, broken by screams and night howls.

What?

Why does a dead man need himself ... - she stumbled and squeezed the man's hand more tightly, - to put in order?

"Stop," his grip tightened. It's terrible, but you can handle it. Don't push yourself.

I wanted to stop and hit him right in the middle of the cemetery. But the rest of the forces must be spent on steps.

Through the thick fog of mourning, she could still think. And she thought that Sergey could be the customer. Great plan. Order best friend, knowing full well that sixty-five percent of the shares will go to her. And then convince or force Alice to leave the business because she had no idea how to run a business. And he knew that too well.

She lifted her head and looked carefully. He looked forward confidently. Stealthily ran his hand over the stubble, and apparently noticing that he was being studied, he dropped the look of dark gray eyes at her.

There were bags under the eyes. He was probably nervous and didn't sleep well either. He worried about how the fate of the enterprise would turn out. And his fate. After all, once Denis gave him a profitable job and a chance for a well-paid life.

The first broke eye contact. She closed her eyes, completely trusting the path and support to Sergey.

Ira!

Alice stopped abruptly. I recognized a rough voice with a touch of hoarseness. She turned around and glared at the tall man. She winced a little, but she spoke anyway.

My name is Alisa Doletskaya. And I don't know you man...