Could it be that I’m overreacting? What if my mind is running wild and that what happened to Elisabeth is coloring my concern for Leah? Anton may well be telling the truth, and Leah could be at her cabin, just working away on her next book. Perhaps he never hurt her and just went there to apologize for an argument they had, like he said. Perhaps she isn’t at any risk from herself, either – after all, suicide is very rare, especially among women, even those with occasional suicidal preoccupation.

I pour some of Eirik’s expensive balsamic vinegar into the sink so that there is something to clean, some reason to turn the tap on, the sound of rushing water erasing the silence of the apartment. I look up at the king’s trees again and focus in on a particularly impressive one, its branches black and gnarled against the gloomy sky, but now it’s like I can see Leah hanging there, close to the trunk as though her body were an extension of it, her neck bent low and at an angle, her thin limbs like drooping branches trailing toward the ground. The palms of her hands are strangely white in the gloomy violet light of the afternoon, and streaked with blood and dirt as though she’s fought someone off. The rope is taut and bright blue, reaching upwards into the dense canopy of the fir tree, swaying softly in the gathering wind. I turn away from the window and wipe my wet hands on my jeans, breathing slowly to still my heart.

‘Kristina,’ says a voice and I jump out of my skin, my heart shuddering in my chest. I spin around and Eirik is standing there, wearing black boxer shorts and a gray T-shirt I don’t remember seeing before.

‘What…’ I start, but my voice breaks and trails off. It’s just after five o’clock on a Friday – Eirik rarely comes home before seven, even on a Friday. ‘Are you sick?’ He does look pale – his face is drawn and deep-blue circles bruise the skin around his eyes.

‘No,’ he says, whispering into my hair. ‘I wanted to come home early to spend some time with you. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.’ I still don’t feel quite like myself. I’m aware that I’m trembling and Eirik takes another step forward before enveloping me in a close hug. I close my eyes and let myself be held by him. He smells like soap and wood smoke and fresh rain.

‘Have you been out running?’

‘Not since yesterday.’

I nod. I open my mouth to speak, to maybe to tell him about Leah, and Anton, but no words will come, only tears, and a flicker of alarm crosses Eirik’s face. ‘What’s the matter, honey?’