A heavy silence hung over the cemetery, as though the earth itself was holding its breath. The gray sky loomed over the trees, and rare drops of rain fell on the freshly dug grave. Only the closest relatives had gathered—no one wanted to turn the funeral of an eight-year-old girl into a spectacle. The girl had passed away suddenly, during the night. Doctors spoke of a congenital heart condition, although there had been no previous signs.

Her mother, dressed all in black, clutched a wet handkerchief in her hands, her lips trembling. Nearby stood the father, silently staring at a single point, as though none of this was happening to him. The child’s coffin, decorated with roses and seemed out of place against the gloomy landscape.

The priest was reading a prayer; his voice sounded muffled under the gusts of wind. One of the relatives placed a plush teddy bear in the coffin—the girl hadn’t parted with it even in the hospital. People lowered their eyes; someone quietly wept.

As they began to lower the coffin into the ground, there was a strange crack, as if a tree had snapped nearby. Several people turned around but didn’t manage to say anything—within a second, flames burst out from under the coffin lid.

The crowd froze. Someone shouted:

— Fire!

The woman in black fainted. The family rushed to the flames, trying to pat out the fire with a jacket. The gravediggers ran to get a fire extinguisher, but everything happened too fast.