When Iryna’s phone sent out its final signal, her family had no idea that those few symbols would become the last trace of her presence.
She had always been meticulous: her work, her home, her circle of friends — everything in her life followed a clear order. That evening, nothing seemed unusual: colleagues saw her smile, neighbors heard her footsteps in the stairwell, and friends expected her routine message about finishing work.
But that short phrase, sent as always, has now taken on an eerie meaning. No one could have imagined that behind such ordinariness lay the final page of a story that would never continue.
It seemed she was rushing home, just as she had hundreds of times before — yet fate had prepared a very different path.
The message consisted of only one line. It looked simple and everyday: “My shift is over, I’m going home.” These were the last words left behind by Iryna Zarutska. There was no hint of mystery, no sign of what would follow just minutes later, when her usual route would turn fatal. Today, that single line is repeated by everyone who knew her — a chilling symbol of the moment life can end abruptly, leaving behind only the silence of a phone that will never ring again.
