The police still hadn’t been in touch—she had to assume that they were leaving her in peace with her son for the first night out of respect. Sandra didn’t have anything to offer the investigation either. She had already shared her suspicions, and in that regard nothing had changed. They also had a crime scene to investigate—the chamber where Erik had been held was cordoned off. She hadn’t seen the clothes he had been wearing when he had disappeared; they were presumably already safely in the custody of the forensic specialists. Somewhere there had to be a trace of Hallin, if only a strand of hair.

Sandra hadn’t understood much about what had happened when Erik had been found, but apparently a member of the public had raised the alarm. Someone had happened to open a door by chance and had found the boy, realised that it was Erik, and done what was needed. Sandra had wanted to hear more about that, but was also grateful that the police were leaving her alone for the time being. She would find out the details soon enough, and she would have the opportunity to express her gratitude to those involved.

Her mobile vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and noted that it was a picture message. From Kerstin. A very blurry photo of something that she couldn’t initially identify. And there was no explanatory text either. The subject was so compressed that it looked like the picture had been taken through a crack between two planks of wood or something. Upon closer examination, she thought she could make out parts of a car—possibly a blue one, or grey. And perhaps a person, too. If so, they were walking alongside the car, coming towards the photographer. But it was hard to make out, because there seemed to be water pouring down between the photographer and the subject of the picture. And no matter how much she zoomed in, the picture got no clearer nor any more comprehensible. Sandra concluded that Kerstin must have pressed a button and sent the message by mistake. She turned off her screen, put the mobile back in her pocket, and directed her attention back at her sleeping son.

As far as the book was concerned, the story was beginning to reach its end, and Sandra decided the time was ripe to rewrite her own experiences during the day. What had happened when Erik had been found would have to wait until the morning, but she could still portray everything she had seen from her own perspective.

The hospital staff had been kind enough to let her spend the night in the room, so she snuggled down with her laptop in the visitor’s bed and began to write.