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Chapters (88)
  1. Cover
  2. Title
  3. January 2014
  4. 1. Jeanette
  5. 2. Sandra
  6. 3. Jan
  7. 4. Jeanette
  8. 5. Sandra
  9. 6. Jeanette
  10. 7. Sandra
  11. 8. Jeanette
  12. May 2018
  13. 9. Sandra
  14. 10. Jeanette
  15. 11. Sandra
  16. 12. Jeanette
  17. 13. Sandra
  18. 14. Jeanette
  19. 15. Sandra
  20. January–February 2014
  21. 16. Jan
  22. 17. Sandra
  23. 18. Jan
  24. 19. Sandra
  25. 20. Jan
  26. 21. Sandra
  27. 22. Jan
  28. 23. Sandra
  29. May 2018
  30. 24. Sandra
  31. 25. Jeanette
  32. 26. Sandra
  33. 27. Jeanette
  34. 28. Sandra
  35. January–February 2014
  36. 29. Karl-Erik
  37. 30. Jeanette
  38. 31. Kerstin
  39. 32. Jeanette
  40. 33. Jan
  41. 34. Jeanette
  42. 35. Jan
  43. 36. Jeanette
  44. 37. Kerstin
  45. June 2018
  46. 38. Sandra
  47. 39. Jeanette
  48. 40. Sandra
  49. 41. Jeanette
  50. 42. Sandra
  51. 43. Jeanette
  52. 44. Sandra
  53. 45. Kerstin
  54. 46. Sandra
  55. 47. Kerstin
  56. 48. Sandra
  57. 49. Jan
  58. 50. Kerstin
  59. 51. Sandra
  60. July 2018
  61. 52. Kerstin
  62. 53. Sandra
  63. 54. Jan
  64. 55. Sandra
  65. 56. Kerstin
  66. 57. Sandra
  67. 58. Jan
  68. 59. Kerstin
  69. 60. Jeanette
  70. 61. Kerstin
  71. 62. Jan
  72. 63. Jeanette
  73. 64. Kerstin
  74. 65. Sandra
  75. 66. Kerstin
  76. 67. Sandra
  77. 68. Kerstin
  78. 69. Sandra
  79. 70. Kerstin
  80. 71. Jan
  81. 72. Sandra
  82. 73. Kerstin
  83. 74. Jan
  84. 75. Sandra
  85. 76. Jan
  86. 77. Sandra
  87. 78. Kerstin
  88. Acknowledgements

Someone touched her upper arm. Softly, carefully, and completely lovingly. She cautiously turned her head. At first all she saw was a pair of glasses, which made her jump—an odd reaction given that it was her mother wearing them.

“Sweetheart,” she said. “Are you finally awake?”

“What are you doing here?” Sandra asked, dumbfounded. “Where’s Erik?”

“Erik’s with Grandpa, eating lunch in the dayroom.”

“He’s okay then?”

“He’s absolutely fine,” her mother said with a smile. “We’ve been more worried about you.”

“But why?” Sandra said impatiently. “What’s happened?”

“Somehow, you ended up with a big dose of some drug or other in your system—they’re still not sure what. But it may have been Rohypnol or something like it. You lost consciousness and they had to pump your stomach. Don’t you remember any of it?”

“I remember waking up in a different room from this one,” Sandra said hesitantly, unsure whether it was a genuine memory.

“That was the recovery room in the intensive care ward. They had you under full observation there for hours and hours. You can’t feel anything now?”

“I feel like normal, although I’ve got a sore throat.”

“That’s because of the gastric irrigation, as they call it. You’ve had a tube down your throat.”

“I began to slur my words,” Sandra remembered. “I was talking to my friend Kerstin on the phone, but she couldn’t hear what I was saying.”

“Someone called Kerstin came by this morning,” her mother said, with a strange expression on her face. “She wanted to check that you were okay. So she said. But she didn’t look . . . like she was one of your friends.”

Sandra had no response to offer to that remark for several reasons, one of which was that she had never met Kerstin.

“The important thing is that you had a visitor when you lost consciousness.”

“He was the one who . . .” Sandra began.

Then she stopped herself. She didn’t really know anything.

“He was the one who raised the alarm,” her mother said. “If it hadn’t been for him, you probably wouldn’t be alive.”

Sandra could scarcely believe her ears. Hallin? What had he done? Apart from stealing her computer, which was one of the absolute worst things that could happen to her?