Detective Schmidt surveyed the scene with a disdainful frown. It was messy,
and he didn't like messy murders. He knew in his gut that the Hoo-Haa gang
were behind it, but the girl couldn't remember their faces and the man was
dead as a stone. Nobody else had seen it.
He left the forensics to finish up and closed the door behind him. It would just have to be another anonymous murder. He felt sorry for the girl, though, left alone with the shadow of a terrible night hanging over her. She had to bury the man she loved. It wasn't right.
He checked in with the station as to how she was doing. He was pleased to hear that she would mend well soon. The Hoo-Haas might have stabbed her and raped her, but they hadn't killed her. To Schmidt, that didn't seem so bad. He went to get a cup of coffee.
The girl sat in her hospital bed, staring numbly at the needles in her arms, the dressing around her body. Her fingers played absently with a plain silver ring. It was all she had left.
He was gone. Her angel was gone. They'd drawn his outline on the floor and said they'd come back later. His life was left staining the floorboards of their apartment. He was gone. She couldn't bear it. In three days' time, she would watch them cover him in earth, and then she was supposed to move on.
Without him.
It was hard. It wasn't ever going to be easy, but she buried him, crying, and left him with a white lily against the gravestone. She promised she'd come back soon. She promised she'd do everything to catch his killers. She promised she'd never stop loving him. And then she had to walk away.
For a while, it hurt unbearably to live without him. Then the pain dulled, and she learned how to be alone. And she sought her friends and family, and remembered how to be with other people. Without him. And even though she missed him, and loved his memory, she knew she could carry on without him. He'd taught her to be strong, and now she would be strong. All that frustrated her was that she couldn't find the faces of his killers. She couldn't let herself forget his death and remember his life until those responsible had been found.
She went through hundreds of police files, looking for faces. None of them made any sense to her. And she lost the will to chase them any further.
He left the forensics to finish up and closed the door behind him. It would just have to be another anonymous murder. He felt sorry for the girl, though, left alone with the shadow of a terrible night hanging over her. She had to bury the man she loved. It wasn't right.
He checked in with the station as to how she was doing. He was pleased to hear that she would mend well soon. The Hoo-Haas might have stabbed her and raped her, but they hadn't killed her. To Schmidt, that didn't seem so bad. He went to get a cup of coffee.
The girl sat in her hospital bed, staring numbly at the needles in her arms, the dressing around her body. Her fingers played absently with a plain silver ring. It was all she had left.
He was gone. Her angel was gone. They'd drawn his outline on the floor and said they'd come back later. His life was left staining the floorboards of their apartment. He was gone. She couldn't bear it. In three days' time, she would watch them cover him in earth, and then she was supposed to move on.
Without him.
It was hard. It wasn't ever going to be easy, but she buried him, crying, and left him with a white lily against the gravestone. She promised she'd come back soon. She promised she'd do everything to catch his killers. She promised she'd never stop loving him. And then she had to walk away.
For a while, it hurt unbearably to live without him. Then the pain dulled, and she learned how to be alone. And she sought her friends and family, and remembered how to be with other people. Without him. And even though she missed him, and loved his memory, she knew she could carry on without him. He'd taught her to be strong, and now she would be strong. All that frustrated her was that she couldn't find the faces of his killers. She couldn't let herself forget his death and remember his life until those responsible had been found.
She went through hundreds of police files, looking for faces. None of them made any sense to her. And she lost the will to chase them any further.