*******
My uncle takes an audible breath for the fifteenth time and wipes his sweaty hands on his pants, looking extremely nervous and worried. I take advantage of Andre's angry texting on his phone to get closer to my uncle.
"Everything's going to be okay, old man. I'll take care of it." I assure him, smiling at the only person who makes me feel something good inside and squeezing his shoulder as the driver stops outside the funeral. We get off the car and walk together inside, where there are a lot of people crying over Gavriil's death.
He was a despicable man who was in charge of the underage girls in his father's brothels, selling them to the highest bidder as if it were a furniture auction. It is disgusting, but it would be hypocritical to complain because most of the time we are t
