In the quiet suburbs of Kyiv, where air raid sirens once dictated daily life, Anna Zarutska and Stanislav Zarutskyi thought they had escaped the unimaginable. Fleeing Russia’s 2022 invasion, they sent their 20-year-old daughter Iryna ahead to America with her siblings, chasing the American Dream of safety and opportunity. But on August 22, 2025, that dream curdled into a blood-soaked nightmare aboard a Charlotte, North Carolina, light rail train. Now, over three months later, the couple faces their darkest days yet: police-delivered CCTV footage revealing the final, frantic moments of Iryna’s life, a 23-year-old artist and pizzeria worker whose radiant spirit lit up her new world.

The video, released in late November 2025 as part of the ongoing investigation, captures the horror in chilling clarity. Iryna, dressed in her uniform from Zepeddie’s Pizzeria in Charlotte’s trendy NoDa neighborhood, boards the Lynx Blue Line at 9:46 p.m., scrolling her phone after a long shift. She had enrolled at Rowan-Cabarrus Community College, dreaming of becoming a veterinary assistant, her love for animals evident in how she walked neighbors’ pets with her infectious smile. Fluent in English within months, she sculpted vibrant designs and gifted artwork to friends, embodying resilience forged in Ukraine’s bomb shelters.

Behind her sits Decarlos Brown Jr., a 34-year-old Charlotte local with a history of mental health crises and minor offenses. Four minutes in, he lunges without warning, unfolding a knife and stabbing her three times – at least once slashing her throat. Blood pools on the floor as Iryna clutches her neck, collapsing in agony while passengers scream and rush to aid. The train halts two minutes later; Brown steps off, knife discarded nearby, and is arrested after treatment for a hand laceration. No prior connection, no motive – just random, unprovoked violence on public transit.

For Anna and Stanislav, now in their Ukrainian home thousands of miles away, the footage arrived like a fresh wound. “We never imagined this,” Stanislav told local media through tears, his voice cracking over a video call. “She escaped war for this? Our girl, so full of life, reduced to screams on a screen.” Anna, who shared a cramped shelter with Iryna during the early invasion, hasn’t slept properly since. The couple, separated from their daughter by oceans and bureaucracy, relied on updates from Iryna’s aunt and uncle in Huntersville, where the family first resettled. Iryna’s move to Charlotte with her boyfriend marked her independence – a boyfriend who taught her to drive, a skill denied by Ukraine’s chaos.

The release of this “newest” CCTV – pieced together from multiple angles, including Brown’s eerie calm post-attack – has plunged them deeper into despair. Bodycam footage from January 2025, also publicized recently, shows Brown ranting to officers about “man-made materials” controlling his body, hinting at untreated schizophrenia. He had evaded fare enforcement, a petty lapse that let him board unchecked. “How many warnings?” Anna whispers, echoing a family’s shattered trust in the system that welcomed them.

Iryna’s death ignited national fury, her story going viral on social media. Outrage focused on urban crime spikes, lax transit security, and mental health gaps in Democratic-led cities. Conservative voices decried “soft-on-crime” policies, while media coverage drew bias accusations for downplaying the racial dynamics – a Black suspect and white victim in a narrative often flipped for outrage. Yet Iryna’s case transcended politics: it birthed “Iryna’s Law” (House Bill 307), signed in October 2025, mandating stricter fare enforcement, resumed capital punishment in North Carolina, and expanded mental health screenings for repeat offenders. Tributes poured in – rapper DaBaby’s “Save Me” single, a butterfly species named Celastrina iryna in her honor – but for her parents, it’s hollow.

Back in Kyiv, Anna and Stanislav cling to memories: Iryna’s laughter, her sketches of Ukrainian wildflowers adapted to American scenes. “She loved it here,” her uncle told reporters, urging remembrance of her kindness over the violence. As Brown’s competency hearing looms – federal charges added for interstate threats – the Zarutskys grapple with grief’s endless winter. “We thought America was refuge,” Stanislav says. “Now, it’s where we lost our light.” Their story demands more than laws: it cries for a world where escape from one horror doesn’t birth another. In the footage’s frozen frames, Iryna’s final plea lingers – a call to safeguard the vulnerable, lest more dreams bleed out on cold rails.