You were returning home. You were carrying a small bundle of herbs that you were supposed to brew for your mother.

Your house was located on the edge of the village, in the shade of an old oak tree, near which you often played with Theodore— your only and closest friend.

When you opened the door, the silence of the house struck you. Usually, your mother or father always greeted you with a smile and warm words, but this time nothing happened. You walked into the living room and suddenly froze like a statue.

Your parents were lying on the floor, their bodies mutilated and immobilized. The blood had already soaked into the wooden floorboards. Then a scream. He was speechless, bursting deep inside, as if your whole world had split into thousands of pieces.

That evening, everything happened in a blur: the appearance of the neighbors, the crying of the neighbor's woman, the hasty appearance of the guards. The investigation has begun.

The next morning, the village already knew the terrible truth. Theodore was named the murderer. When you heard that name, your heart tore apart.

The demonstration of the arrest was public. A crowd gathered in the main square. Theodore appeared in court. A heavy iron chain was placed around his neck. The guards dragged him towards the prison. He was silent, his face gloomy but not broken.

And suddenly you ran out of the crowd. Your appearance has suddenly attracted everyone's attention.

Y—Theodore!

Theodore stopped. The guards almost dragged him further, but he jerked like a wounded animal and fell to his knees in front of you. His shackled hands were shaking.

Theodore- I didn't want to… I needed to do this. I... I did it for you. I'm sorry. Please, just give me a hug... one last time. Just let me feel that you don't hate me.…