In the quiet suburbs of Huntersville, North Carolina, the Zarutska family had begun to weave a tapestry of new beginnings after the shadows of war. But on August 22, 2025, that fragile hope was shattered in the most brutal way imaginable. Iryna Zarutska, a 23-year-old Ukrainian refugee whose laughter and kindness lit up every room she entered, was fatally stabbed on a Charlotte light-rail train. The unprovoked attack, captured on chilling surveillance footage, has left her family grappling with an unimaginable void—a void where dreams of a wedding, a career, and a peaceful life once thrived.
Iryna’s uncle, speaking exclusively to PEOPLE magazine under the condition of anonymity to protect the family’s privacy amid their profound grief, painted a portrait of a young woman whose spirit was as resilient as it was compassionate. “She was just a very, very caring person,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion during a phone interview from his home in North Carolina. “She loved to help people.” These words, simple yet profound, encapsulate the essence of Iryna, who had not only survived the horrors of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine but had fallen deeply in love with the promise of the American Dream. Her story, one of courage, love, and heartbreaking loss, serves as a poignant reminder of the human cost when safety is stripped away from those seeking refuge.
Escaping the Shadows of War: A Family’s Desperate Flight
Iryna’s journey to America began in the chaotic early days of the Russia-Ukraine war, a conflict that upended millions of lives and forced families like hers to confront unimaginable choices. Born and raised in Kyiv, Iryna grew up in a modest apartment building where the sounds of daily life—children playing, neighbors chatting—were suddenly drowned out by the relentless wail of air raid sirens. In February 2022, as Russian forces advanced, Iryna, then just 20 years old, huddled in a bomb shelter with her mother, Anna Zarutska, and her two younger siblings, Valeriia and Bohdan. The image of them crammed together in that dim, concrete space, clutching each other amid the distant booms of explosions, became the catalyst for their escape.
Her uncle recalls the moment vividly: “What motivated us to get them out of Ukraine was seeing a picture of them huddled up in a bomb shelter near their apartment there in Kyiv.” That photograph, sent via a shaky WhatsApp message, was a wake-up call. Iryna’s father, Stanislav Zarutskyi, remained behind in Ukraine, bound by obligations to his homeland, but he urged his family to flee for safety. With hearts heavy but determined, Anna, Iryna, Valeriia, and Bohdan boarded a train westward in August 2022, crossing borders under the cover of night and the chaos of war. They arrived in the United States not as conquerors of opportunity, but as refugees seeking solace.
“They didn’t want to come to this country and be a burden,” her uncle explained. “They wanted to come to this country to build a new life.” Landing in North Carolina, where Iryna’s uncle and his wife had established roots years earlier, the family found temporary refuge in their home. For the first few months, it was a period of adjustment—learning the rhythms of a new language, a new culture, and a world unmarred by constant fear. Iryna, ever the optimist, threw herself into helping around the house, cooking traditional Ukrainian borscht for her relatives and practicing her English with flashcards borrowed from the local library. She was the “glue” that held the family together, her uncle said, bridging the gap between the exhaustion of her mother and the wide-eyed curiosity of her siblings.
But stability came slowly. By May 2025, the family had moved into their own apartment in Charlotte’s vibrant NoDa neighborhood, a artsy district buzzing with creativity that mirrored Iryna’s own artistic soul. She had graduated from Synergy College in Kyiv with a degree in Art and Restoration, a passion she hoped to revive in America. Yet, practicality took precedence. Iryna enrolled in community college classes to bolster her English skills, attending evening sessions after long workdays. Her determination was infectious; neighbors in Huntersville remember her as the young woman who would stop to chat with elderly residents, offering a smile that bridged language barriers.
A Heart for Helping: Iryna’s Compassionate Spirit
Iryna Zarutska was not defined by the trauma she escaped but by the light she brought to others. Her uncle’s description of her as “a very, very caring person who loved to help people” is echoed in countless tributes from those who knew her. In her early days in North Carolina, Iryna took a job at a local assisted living facility in Huntersville, where she cared for the elderly with a tenderness that belied her youth. “She would sit with them for hours, listening to their stories even if she didn’t understand every word,” one coworker recalled at her funeral. It was there that Iryna’s empathy shone brightest—helping residents with meals, organizing art sessions inspired by her Kyiv education, and simply being a presence that made the facility feel like home.
When that job ended, Iryna didn’t falter. She transitioned to Zepeddie’s Pizzeria in Charlotte, starting as a cashier but quickly earning a promotion to line cook through her tireless work ethic. “She was an incredible employee and a true friend,” the pizzeria’s owner, who attended her funeral, posted on social media. Iryna’s shifts were long—often from morning until evening—but she never complained. Instead, she used her free time to babysit neighborhood children and walk dogs for busy families, turning odd jobs into acts of genuine kindness. “She saw helping others as her way of giving back to this country that gave us a second chance,” her uncle shared, his voice thick with sorrow.
Iryna’s compassion extended to animals, a love that fueled her dreams of becoming a veterinary assistant. She volunteered at local shelters when she could, gently coaxing skittish strays with treats and soft words. Friends describe her as the type who would drop everything to aid a stranger—once staying up all night to comfort a neighbor’s sick pet. In a world that had shown her cruelty through war, Iryna chose kindness, a choice that made her loss all the more devastating. “She was the heart of our family,” her uncle said. “Without her, everything feels broken.”
Falling in Love: The American Dream and a Future with Stas
Perhaps the most poignant chapter of Iryna’s American story was her blossoming romance with Stas Nikulytsia, a fellow Ukrainian immigrant who had arrived in Charlotte a year earlier. They met at a community event for refugees, bonding over shared memories of Kyiv and dreams for the future. Stas, described by Iryna’s uncle as “a good man who adored her,” became her pillar of support. Together, they rented a cozy apartment in NoDa, its walls adorned with Iryna’s artwork—vibrant restorations of old photos that symbolized their own mended lives.
Iryna had truly fallen in love with the American Dream, her uncle emphasized. “She was so much in love with it,” he said, recounting her excitement over small milestones. She was learning to drive with Stas’s patient guidance, practicing in empty parking lots and celebrating every successful turn. “The very first trip that she was going to make after getting her license was to drive and come visit my wife and I,” her uncle revealed, the memory bringing fresh tears. Iryna had been saving diligently for her first car, envisioning road trips across North Carolina and perhaps even a visit back to Ukraine one day, once peace returned.
Their love culminated in wedding plans for October 2025—a simple ceremony in a Charlotte park, surrounded by family and the community that had embraced them. Iryna, with her artistic flair, had sketched ideas for the decorations: wildflowers from local fields, symbolizing resilience. Stas proposed on a quiet evening walk, and Iryna’s joyful texts to her family captured her elation. “She was building a life here, not just surviving,” her uncle said. “America gave her hope, and she gave it her all.”
Yet, beneath the optimism, the weight of the war lingered. Iryna stayed in close contact with her father in Ukraine, sending money when she could and sharing stories of her new life to ease his worries. She dreamed of sponsoring his visa one day, reuniting the family under one roof. In her, the American Dream wasn’t abstract; it was tangible— a job she loved, a partner who cherished her, and a future brimming with possibility.
A Night of Horror: The Unthinkable Attack
August 22, 2025, began like any other for Iryna. She finished her shift at Zepeddie’s around 9 p.m., her apron dusted with flour from a busy night of pizzas and laughter with coworkers. Texting Stas that she was on her way home via the Lynx Blue Line—a route she took daily for its convenience to their apartment—she boarded the train with a tired but content smile. The Camden station, just steps from their door, promised a quick reunion.
What happened next defies comprehension. Seated quietly in an aisle, Iryna was approached from behind by Decarlos Brown Jr., a 34-year-old man with a lengthy criminal record, including prior assaults and drug charges. In a random, unprovoked frenzy, Brown stabbed her multiple times in the neck. Surveillance footage shows the horror unfolding in seconds—Iryna’s brief struggle before collapsing. Passengers screamed, but it was too late. Emergency responders pronounced her dead at the scene.
When Iryna didn’t arrive home, panic set in. Stas, using her phone’s location, rushed to the station with her family. The sight that greeted them—police tape, flashing lights, and the devastating confirmation—shattered their world. “She came here for safety, and this is what happened,” her uncle said, his anger mingling with grief. Brown was arrested shortly after, charged with first-degree murder and a federal count of committing an act causing death on a mass transportation system. Despite his history—including a recent release despite warnings from his own mother—the attack has ignited debates on public safety and criminal justice reform.
Shattered Dreams: A Family’s Unbearable Grief
The days following Iryna’s death were a blur of sorrow. Her family, already scarred by war, faced a grief that felt like a second invasion. Anna, Iryna’s mother, has barely spoken since, her eyes hollow with loss. Valeriia and Bohdan, the siblings Iryna protected like a second mother, cling to her belongings—a sketchbook, a favorite scarf—as lifelines. Stanislav, her father, couldn’t make the journey from Ukraine for the funeral on September 10, 2025, watching via FaceTime from Kyiv. “He wept the entire time,” her uncle recounted. “It’s like losing a piece of his soul.”
The funeral at a Charlotte chapel drew over 100 mourners, a testament to Iryna’s impact. Coworkers from the assisted living facility and Zepeddie’s filled the pews, sharing stories of her warmth. The pizzeria owner lit a candle in her honor, vowing to keep it burning. A GoFundMe campaign has raised over $50,000, funding the burial plot the family chose in a serene North Carolina cemetery. In a profound act of commitment to her adopted home, they declined the Ukrainian embassy’s offer to repatriate her remains. “That decision shows how much she had fallen in love with the American Dream,” her uncle said. “She wanted to stay here, where she found joy.”
Stas’s grief is visceral. The man who planned to marry Iryna now navigates an empty apartment, her wedding dress sketches scattered like ghosts. “She was my everything,” he posted on Instagram, alongside photos of their happy moments. The couple’s October wedding, once a beacon, now haunts them—a reminder of what was stolen.
A Legacy of Light Amid Darkness: Calls for Justice and Remembrance
Iryna’s death has rippled beyond her family, sparking outrage and calls for change. Charlotte Mayor Vi Lyles urged respect for the family’s privacy, asking media not to share the graphic footage. Community leaders, including City Council member Edwin Peacock, have demanded enhanced security on the Lynx Blue Line, questioning how a “career criminal” like Brown was free to roam. Federal prosecutors, led by Attorney General Pam Bondi, promise the “harshest possible sentence,” framing the case as a failure of “soft-on-crime policies.”
Yet, amid the anger, Iryna’s family pleads for her to be remembered not for her tragic end, but for her life. “She contributed so much to society and loved her family deeply,” her uncle said. “Don’t let her story be just about violence—let it be about the good she did.” Tributes pour in: flowers at the station, murals in NoDa inspired by her art, and scholarships in her name for refugee students at her community college.
Iryna Zarutska’s fate evokes a deep, aching sympathy—for a young woman who escaped bombs only to meet a knife; for a family torn apart twice over; for dreams deferred indefinitely. In her uncle’s words, she was “the glue,” and now, in her absence, they must find a way to hold together. Her story, heartbreaking as it is, underscores the fragility of refuge and the enduring power of kindness. As her grave overlooks the rolling North Carolina hills she grew to love, Iryna’s spirit whispers a call to build a safer world, one where the American Dream isn’t just pursued, but protected.