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  “Yes. Yes, I heard. Terrible story with Peter, huh? I guess he really lost it after we came home, huh? I’m so sorry for you, Rebekka. You seemed like such a great couple.”

  “Well, things are not always as they seem,” I said.

  “So, what can I do for you?” he asked.

  “I need a favor.”

  “I believe I owe you one for that time in Baghdad when you saved me from that bomb. I guess I owe you several. You saved my life, Rebekka. I’ll do anything for you.”

  “I need you to do something now. And it’s a big request.”

  “Okay. Let’s hear it,” he said.

  “I want you to comment on an article I’m writing about four killings here in Karrebaeksminde. I believe they’re all connected; I believe it’s the same killer, but I can’t get it confirmed.”

  Kim went quiet. “I know what you’re talking about. I think I could do that. I mean, the management won’t like it, since we’re not supposed to talk about the case to the press, but for you, I’ll do it for you.”

  “Really? You have no idea how happy I am. What I need is for you to tell me the similarities in the cases.”

  “I can do that. I mean, it’s bound to get out somehow anyway, right?”

  “I will tell the story no matter what,” I said. “I just prefer to have my facts confirmed.”

  “Naturally. You’re a professional. Always have been,” he said.

  “One more thing,” I said. “I need you to confirm for me what the murder weapon is.”

  Kim went quiet once again. I could tell he was thinking. “That’s going to be a little harder,” he said.

  “I know it was a police-baton, so I’ll write it anyway,” I said.

  Kim sighed. “This is going to be ugly,” he said. “But if you ask me about it, then I guess I can’t lie.”

  I smiled and looked at Sara, who could tell something was going on. I gave her a thumbs up and she smiled back.

  I spoke with Kim for about an hour on the phone, getting all my details confirmed, and even the murder weapon. Then I thanked him and hung up. I texted Jens-Ole and told him the article was now confirmed and almost done. I looked at the clock and realized Sune had been gone for a long time. I wondered if there was a line at the bakery, then returned to my article, not thinking anymore about it. I went to the kitchen and poured myself some more coffee, which I drank while finishing the story. I sent it to Sara and had her read through it to make sure it was clear, and that I hadn’t left anything out.

  “It’s really good,” she said when she was done. “Kind of scared me. To think there’s a policeman out there beating people to death with his baton. Made me shiver.”

  I was satisfied with her reaction, and wanted to send the article, but I still needed Sune’s pictures. I looked at the clock and wondered what was taking him so long. I grabbed my phone and looked at the display. He hadn’t tried to call or text me. I decided to call him. He picked up.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “What, are you checking up on me now?” he asked. “You’re not my mother, remember?”

  “Well, I’m sorry if that’s the way you feel, but I was a little worried and wanted to know if you had run into trouble.”

  “As a matter of fact, I did run into someone,” he said. “I ran into Henrik Pedersen outside the station. I talked to him for a long time, and he told me he could confirm that they were looking within the police force for the killer. I took his picture and wrote his quote down for your article.”

  Oh, my God!

  “Are you serious?”

  “Deadly serious.”

  “That’s awesome, Sune.”

  “Well, I did have to smooth-talk him for a little while, but I got the feeling he liked the idea of being in the paper and having his photo in it.”

  “That’s so great, Sune. Thank you so much. Now my article will be complete.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  “So, are you on your way back?” I asked.

  “Well, I’m kind of on my way downtown to meet up with Jeppe at the Internet Café. We wanted to play a few games. I can send the pictures and the quote from there if you like. I really don’t need to come in for that.”

  My heart dropped. I missed hanging out with Sune. I wanted to have lunch with him. I wanted to discuss the story like we used to do.

  “Well…I guess not.”

  “Great. I’ll send everything to you in the drop box. See you later.”

  31

  LEONORA AND Alex soon became the closest of friends in the entire school. The man remembered vividly how they would stick together in everything. Even finishing each other’s sentences from time to time like an old married couple. He couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of them, since he didn’t have anyone that close in his life. He had always been the one closest to his sister, and he also had a secret crush on Leonora. But he never told anyone how he felt. Because, at the same time, he was happy for them. He was thrilled for Alex. And finally the screaming and crying at night had ceased.

  Their parents still tried to change her ways and force her to wear girls’ clothes. They refused to cut her hair like she wanted them to, and told her she would be pulled out of school and be homeschooled if she ever did it herself. So, Alex looked like a girl on the outside, with her long black hair and black dresses, but she never acted like one. Her every movement, even the expressions on her face, were masculine. It made her look odd and made her classmates continue to tease her.

  But now, she had someone in her life. Leonora, the prettiest girl in the entire school, suddenly stood up for her. She would tell people off and get them to back down. And Alex was in love from the very first day. She would follow Leonora everywhere she went and do anything the girl told her to.

  Their parents thought Alex had finally gotten a real friend, and that she was now, at long-last, accepting the fact that she was actually a girl and behaving like one. So, they applauded this new person in Alex’s life. They invited her over and drove Alex to the mall when Leonora wanted to meet her there.

  What they didn’t know was that their daughter secretly dreamt about her new best friend at night in ways they would never have accepted if they had known.

  But her brother knew. He listened to her when she spoke about Leonora and saw the sparkle in her eyes. He knew how much Alex wanted to be close to Leonora, but he also feared deeply for the day when Leonora figured out how her best friend felt. How she secretly desired her.

  “You don’t know if Leonora likes girls,” he said one night, trying to break it to his sister gently.

  Alex looked at him like he was a complete idiot. “I’m not a girl,” she said.

  “Yes, you are,” he argued. “Look at you. Look at your hair, your clothes, your breasts.”

  Alex looked down. “Those are not mine,” she said. “They came from the pills, remember? I never wanted them. And the hair and clothes? That doesn’t make me a girl.”

  “Okay, but the fact that you have a vagina must be proof enough, right? I mean, how much clearer does it get?”

  Alex looked at her brother through the dark almost black hair that was always hanging in front of her face. Then she growled.

  “I’m not a girl! I’m not a girl!”

  “Yes, you are!”

  For the first time in their life as twins, Alex lost her temper. She grabbed her brother around his neck and started choking him.

  “Say I’m a boy. Say I’m a boy!” she yelled forcefully.

  The brother was terrified that she was going to strangle him. She held him so tightly around the neck, it hurt like crazy, and he couldn’t breathe. He gasped and spurted for air.

  “Say it!”

  The boy felt how he started to lose consciousness, while he struggled to stay alive, when the door to their room opened and their parents stormed in.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Seeing what was happening, their father sprang for Alex and pulled her
away from her brother, who lay for a long time on the bed gasping for air and coughing. He still remembered Alex’s scream as they carried her out of the room.

  “I’m not a girl! Say I’m not a girl!”

  32

  WHEN I was done with my article and had chosen a few of Sune’s pictures to send along with it, I picked up all the kids and went home. I hadn’t heard anything from Sune, and as time passed, I wondered if he was even going to make it home for dinner.

  My dad came down and sat at the table while I made Danish meatballs, frikadeller, and baked potatoes. He looked tired and pale, and I wondered when he had last been outside to get some fresh air.

  “I’ll open the window,” he would always say, when I told him fresh air would do him good.

  I wondered if I should take him out for a walk when Sune got back and could look after the kids. Even if it was dark out, he would still get some air. It was always hard in the wintertime for him to get outside because he was afraid of slipping. The sidewalks were icy and he could easily fall. I couldn’t blame him.

  “So, what’s going on with you and Sune these days?” he asked.

  I shrugged, while cutting the lettuce for the salad. “I really don’t know. It’s like he prefers to spend time with that Jeppe guy more than me. I guess I can’t blame him. I’m not exactly all fun like him. I’m older; I have more responsibility. I don’t like spending all day playing video games. It’s just a waste of time, if you know what I mean.”

  My dad chuckled. I poured him a glass of wine. The doctor had said one glass a day would be good for his heart. I poured one for myself and sipped it. I felt the sadness spread, thinking about how it always used to be Sune that I shared my wine with. We would laugh and talk about our day or a story we worked on, or laugh at the crazy kids.

  “It’s like half of me is missing, somehow. I mean, we used to do everything together, and now he’s off having fun with someone else. I don’t mind him having fun, that’s not the problem…”

  “But you would prefer that he had fun with you,” my dad said.

  “That’s how it used to be.”

  I sipped my wine again when my phone vibrated. Hoping it was Sune, I picked it up. It was a text.

  HOW WAS YOUR DAY?

  It was from David. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. Why did I feel so happy when hearing from him? That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I texted back, trying to stay professional and only talk about work:

  GOOD. GOT A BIG ARTICLE IN FOR TOMORROW. DON’T MISS IT.

  He texted me back:

  I WON’T. I ONLY MISS YOU.

  I looked at the text, then put the phone down. It was getting dangerous now. Did I have feelings for him? Why was I happy that he sent that? Why did I want to put everything down and go see him? Why had I missed him all day?

  The phone vibrated again. I picked it up. But this time it wasn’t from David. It was a text from an unknown number. It said:

  NICE SHIRT, REBEKKA.

  I looked at the text, feeling baffled. What was this? Who was it? I shook my head and put the phone down, when it vibrated again.

  RED IS MY FAVORITE COLOR.

  I stared at the text, feeling my heart race in my chest. Who the hell was this person? How did he know what I was wearing? Had he seen me earlier today? Was he looking at me right now?

  I stared at the dark windows. It was pitch-black outside. Someone was walking his dog, and it was peeing on the streetlamp. Other than that, the street was empty. I looked at the text again. Then I wrote back.

  WHO IS THIS?

  I put the phone down and went back to making my salad when the phone vibrated again. I picked it up.

  LITTLE BOY UNSEEN

  “What?” I asked out loud. What was that supposed to mean?

  “What’s wrong?” My dad asked and looked up from the paper he was reading.

  I shook my head and put the phone in my pocket. “Nothing.” I forced a smile, and hoped he wouldn’t notice how upset I was.

  “Well, I don’t think we can wait for Sune any longer,” I said. “The kids are starving. Let’s eat.”

  33

  SUNE DIDN’T come home until the middle of the night. I had just fallen asleep after hours of staring at the ceiling, wondering where he was and what he was doing. I heard the door open and then the bed moved as he climbed in. It woke me up.

  “Where were you?” I asked, knowing I once again sounded like his mother, but also feeling that I had a right to know.

  “With Jeppe.”

  “You smell like beer.”

  “Well, we had a couple and played some pool. Is that a problem?” Sune asked, sounding drowsy.

  I cleared my throat and decided not to ask any more questions. I wanted to talk to him about what they had been up to. I wanted to know if they had been looking at girls, or maybe even talking to them. I wanted to ask about everything and maybe yell a little at him for abandoning me like this, but I didn’t have the strength. Besides, Sune was drunk, and I wouldn’t be able to talk sense with him.

  It had to wait.

  “No,” I said instead. “Let’s get some sleep.”

  Soon after, Sune snored, while I couldn’t fall back to sleep. I stared at the ceiling and out of the window for hours before sleep finally overpowered me.

  The next morning, I could hardly drag myself out of bed. I let Sune sleep in, mostly because I didn’t want to bother discussing anything with him, or even looking at him. I just wanted to get the kids ready for school, and then get myself to the office. I made breakfast for everyone and served some for my dad on a tray. When everyone was ready, we left the house without even saying goodbye to Sune. I told Tobias that his dad was still sleeping and that he had come home late.

  At the office, Jens-Ole had called to congratulate me on the big article that had made the front cover of the newspaper this morning.

  “And I heard Sune landed the officer. You two make quite the team,” he said joyfully.

  “Well, I don’t know about that. We try our best.”

  “So, do you have any follow-up leads for today?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “I was thinking about getting someone to tell me how easy it is to get ahold of a police-baton and how common they are.”

  “Sounds really good. Even though the police-killer angle is a good—and scary—one, we need to cover all aspects. You’re answering the question everyone is left with. Is this a police-killer, or could someone else have done it? Very good, my dear, very good. Let me know what you come up with. I was also thinking about doing a vox-pop with people in the area, asking them if they were afraid and if they are taking any precautions, you know…get the mood of the population. That’s always popular.”

  I sighed. I hated vox-pops. It was so populist. Just going into the street and asking random people how they felt about something. In a case like this, it only added to the fear in the population, and I didn’t like that much. I believed they should know what was going on, but not be scared to walk the streets. But if my editor wanted me to do this, there was no way around it.

  “Sure. I’ll do that a little later,” I said.

  “That’s my girl.”

  We hung up, and I looked at Sara.

  “You look like you could use a day off,” she said.

  “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “Trouble in paradise?”

  I stared at my screen, while her question lingered in my mind. There was no use in trying to hide it anymore, was there?

  “I guess you could say that,” I said.

  “I figured. It’ll get better,” she said.

  “I sure hope it will.”

  “Trying to play family is a lot harder than just dating,” she said with a smile.

  She had no idea how right she was.

  34

  UNDER LEONORA’S protection, the bullying stopped for some months for Alex. Every now and then, someone would say something, but only to be told off by Leonora, and with her
being the most popular girl in school, they would immediately stop.

  Unfortunately, Leonora soon became bored with Alex and started having new friends to hang out with. It was a source of frustration for Alex, who struggled with increasing jealousy. She still clung very close to Leonora, and for a long time, she managed to keep her to herself. But Leonora was getting tired of the staring eyes in the cafeteria and the many whispering voices behind their backs. In the beginning, it had been fun to take Alex under her wing, to surprise everyone and take in the one that no one wanted. It had been fun. And she would probably have kept Alex close for a longer time if it hadn’t been for that one night in December when they had been in Leonora’s room, listening to the latest CD from The Cure that Alex had bought for her.

  They were both lying on their backs on Leonora’s bed, talking about their dreams for the future.

  “I want to be a rock-star,” Leonora said. “I want to travel the world and not be stuck in this small town.”

  Alex laughed. “I bet you’d be a great rock-star. Everybody would love you.”

  “You love me, don’t you, Alex?” Leonora had suddenly said.

  Alex hadn’t known what to say. Thinking she might as well be honest she said, “Well…yes. Yes, I do.”

  With her heart pounding in her chest, Alex had waited for Leonora’s answer, wondering what she was thinking, wondering how she would react.

  She’s going to hate me. She’s going to tell me she’ll never see me again…that I am no longer her friend.

  But that wasn’t how she reacted. Not at all.

  “Would you like to kiss me?” Leonora said instead. She turned her head and looked intensely at Alex.

  Alex stared at her lips. Her beautiful soft lips. Oh, how she had dreamt of kissing those lips. How she had longed to know what it would be like to kiss them. But she hesitated. Alex didn’t feel sure if Leonora really meant it. She was, after all, her best friend.

  Leonora pushed her shoulder playfully and laughed. “Come on, Alex. I know you want to. Everyone at school tells me you’re a lesbian and that you only hang out with me because you’re in love with me. Don’t lie to me. It’s okay. You can be honest with me. You can trust me. I am your best friend.”

 

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