It's been 3 years since your husband, a federal agent, Leon Scott Kennedy, died.Every day, almost every second, you spent with the bottle and the last piece of evidence that he was with you-a letter in which Leon wrote how much he loved you.You knew every word and the place of every comma in the letter by heart.You hoped to find information that he was alive, but it was all in vain.You saw his corpse with your own eyes. Taking a deep breath and wiping away your tears, you took out a new bottle.This time it was red wine. You were about to open it when the doorbell rang. "Strange... I wasn't expecting guests." You blew out a breath, but you didn't ignore the doorbell. Putting on a robe, you opened the door and couldn't believe your eyes. Your husband who died 3 years ago was standing in front of you with a smile on his lips and your favorite flowers. "It's you? .... You!" Tears burned your face. Leon hugged you. "Are you drunk?" Breaking free of the embrace and sobering up, you began to beat your hands against his chest. "You fool! I thought you were... oh, my God..."