‘I just haven’t had anything to eat in a while,’ she says and reaches for her water glass.

‘Here, take this,’ Karl says and pulls a half-eaten chocolate bar out of his pocket. ‘It’s important to eat when you—’

‘Shall we keep going?’ She cuts him off loudly with a nod to Sören Larsen.

And while her mind races on, she watches the fourth video start up and hears Billy Formby’s affected voice fill the room again.

*

‘Interview with Lena Johanson, 4 May, 3.20 a.m. Are you ready to hear the charges against you?’

No answer.

‘You’ve had a few days to think since we last talked. I assume you’ve come up with a defence? Have you?’

A slow headshake.

‘Please, Billy . . .’

‘You should probably start preparing. But maybe it’ll be easier for you when you know exactly what you’re accused of. Shall we begin?’

Luna’s head is bowed and her shoulders look like they’re shaking. No answer.

‘I asked if you’re ready to begin. You have to answer me when I ask you something, Mummy, dearest. Are you ready?’

A barely perceptible movement of her head.

‘Yes,’ Luna replies faintly.

‘The first charge is actually the lesser one. That’s good news, right?’

This time, he doesn’t wait for a reply, just carries right on. He sounds calm again now. Almost like he’s intoning the words.

‘Giving a child up for adoption is not an unforgivable sin. You fucked around and got knocked up at fifteen. Of course you didn’t want to be a mother at that age. It was careless, but not something I’m going to judge you for. Do you understand that?’

She makes no reply. Billy doesn’t say anything, either. The silence seems to stretch out endlessly until Luna eventually capitulates again.

‘I understand,’ she says.

‘Good, then let’s move on. When you give up a child, it’s important to make sure the adoptive parents are . . . how to put it . . . good people. Did you do that?’

At that, Luna raises her head and briefly looks straight into the camera. Her face is swollen, and her eyes look oddly vacant. Then she lowers her eyes again. Her voice weak and dejected.

‘I was never told where you ended up. Everything was arranged by . . . others.’

He attempts a laugh. It sounds more like barking.

‘By others, you say? Are you referring to your family, or maybe Social Services?’

‘I don’t know who decided what, Billy. Honestly. I was completely . . . everything was so . . . I was just a child myself, for God’s sake.’

Luna’s voice breaks and another barking laugh is heard.

‘So that’s your defence? You were a child yourself? That was the reason you never bothered to find out where I ended up?’

No answer.

‘Then let me fill you in. About where I was sent. About who raised your child. Would you like to know?’