With Sven and Mariana just a few steps ahead, through corridors and down stairs, toward his car on Kungsholms Street.

Chapter 45

Another long day trapped in an apartment that wasn’t theirs. Because they had to hide. Because Dad disappearing and guns hidden under the sink and Mom destroying SIM cards in acetone were all things that meant something dangerous was going on. But it didn’t feel dangerous. Sitting on the edge of the kitchen table in front of the window looking out on a boring street where nothing happened. He’d being staring for a half hour into the darkness and only counted four cars looking for a place to park, nine people walking home, two dogs who peed on the same exact lamppost. Still, it was more than yesterday at this time; then only seven people had walked by and one dog, a little tiny one.

Four cars and nine people.

If he didn’t count the people sitting in the big black car. The people who parked on the other side of the street and then didn’t do anything else, didn’t get out. If they did, his count would be higher. Two more, it looked like anyway, unless someone was sitting in the back seat.

“What are you up to?”

Mom. He hadn’t even noticed her. She was also good at sneaking. And it was so nice when she ran her hand through his hair.

“Nothing. Looking outside.”

“Time to sleep, Hugo.”

“Why? We’re not doing anything tomorrow.”

“Because . . . people need routines. We need them. So things can feel at least a little normal.”

He lingered on the kitchen table. If they got out of the car, at least for a little while. Then that would be eleven people. A record.

“Some people are sitting out there, Mom. You see them? In the black BMW.”

“Where?”

“There.”

He pointed. And she saw them.

“I think, they look like . . . like your dad. Security guys. Sometimes Dad makes sure we’re guarded. Because he wants to know we’re okay.”

She caressed his cheek, Mom had kind hands.

“Five more minutes, Hugo. Then you brush your teeth, okay?”

“Okay.”

Over there. At the tree, where the road turned.

What luck.

A new dog, that wasn’t here yesterday. That meant three dogs. And a tenth person, the old lady holding the leash, who looked kind of like how he remembered his grandma.

It was completely still again. Not so much as a bird or a cat to count. Then he noticed something strange. The two men Mom thought Dad had sent. They were putting something on. Stocking caps, now? In the middle of summer? And finally they climbed out of the car, making his count twelve, another new record, he thought, just as the men pulled their stocking caps over their faces. Black masks. They were heading straight toward their front door, their apartment.

Toward him.

Chapter 46

Mom. Mom!”