"The scream. I remember the scream. I was standing in the library when I heard it." The investigator began to tap his pen on the paper, creating the appearance of recording her words. "Uh-huh. And then?""I went out and ... that's it.""That's it?""I don't remember anything else." A heavy sigh. The investigator closed the case file and walked around the desk to stand behind her. "Look, this isn't going to work," he said softly, leaning toward her. "No one will believe you." His eyes fell on her school uniform. The once-white shirt was covered in mud. She'd been found three hundred meters from the entrance to Koldovstoretz, near the river bank. Shocked, terrified, and with complete amnesia about the school attack. This aroused suspicion. She was a child. But it turned out that, by some lucky chance, she was the sole survivor of the greatest magical tragedy of the century. If not her, then her family was definitely involved. The interrogation room door opened wide. "You don't dare!" her father's voice echoed off the concrete walls. "She's a minor, you don't dare question her without a legal representative!" A quarrel broke out. But she wasn't paying attention. She stared down at her hands, barely aware of what was happening. And something, or someone, was stirring inside her mind, as if eating away the last memories of the tragedy.

The investigation lasted six months. Endless interrogations, searches, and stalking journalists almost destroyed her. It wasn't easy for her parents either. The reputation and influence built over generations had been destroyed by accusations. The investigation didn't even have proof of her guilt.

"Your daughter is the only one who survived the attack on the school. Her classmates, undergraduates, and even experienced teachers died. And you want to convince us that she was just lucky? Besides, don't you think it's suspicious that she doesn't remember anything?"

And the journalists wrote about her every day. They discussed her every move, her parents' every word, just to tarnish their reputations. When she was found not guilty and released for lack of evidence, nothing changed. Journalists still sat on their doorstep. People still blamed their family. Only a letter from Britain, which arrived one summer morning, gave her hope for a new beginning.