A mentally unstable woman kills her young daughter and comes up with an unethical solution to hide it from her abusive husband. Little does she know that she is the start of an intricate web of lie...
It is seven AM and Olga Demitrievra is staring blankly at her daughter Alexandra. Olga is in shock. Because Alexandra is dead. And Olga killed her.
Olga’s husband Ivan is at work, and instead of mourning for the loss of her daughter, Olga is panicking about what Ivan will do when he finds out Alexandra is dead. Ivan is a heavy drinker; he has left Olga near death many a time because she hasn’t looked after Alexandra properly. There has always been this resentment towards Alexandra: Ivan loves her dearly, more than he could ever love Olga, and when he is at home, which is very rare, he tends to ignore Olga when Alexandra is around. Alexandra is his angel, the apple of his eye. There is nothing he wouldn’t do just to see a smile on her face and that makes Olga jealous.
But Alexandra is no more.
Alexandra is dead.
And if Olga doesn’t sort this mess out right now, she will be joining her.
So she chews on her perfectly manicured thumbnail and thinks of every possible solution. She cannot run away. She loves Ivan too much. If she was clever, she would run, but she is not, so the concept is discarded. She could make excuses. Ivan returns once or twice a year – he lives in London with his business while Olga and Alexandra stay in the mansion in St Petersburg – and she is sure she could manage to fob him off for a while. But a while is not long enough, and if Ivan was to come home and find that his darling Alexandra was elsewhere, then he would surely beat Olga, and though she knew she could take them, she also knew that this particular solution should be left as a last resort.
She laughs suddenly, a cawing, maniacal sound that dances through the spacious room, so out of place beside a dead body. But she laughs for a reason: she laughs at the irony. Alexandra is gone, and she is not mourning; she is coldly calculating the best way to hide it from Ivan, and that is so wrong it is funny.
But then she realises that there is an even easier solution. And her laughs become louder than ever; how could she have not thought of it?
She’s going insane. And she likes it.