In the window flashed the blue glare of flashing beacons of police cars. Eva was sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a snow-white blanket stained with dried blood. Her eye was swollen, and her left arm was terribly sore, even a strong painkiller, which was carefully injected by a young nurse from the ambulance who arrived after the police, did not help.

Their spacious, once cozy bedroom now resembled a horror movie set: Sylvester's body turned upside down on the floor, a pool of blood almost dried up, forming a dirty brown crust around the unfortunate head.

Well, everything, the parquet made of fabulously expensive teak wood...