Chapters (61)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Imagine a girl
- Prologue
- The Foreigner
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- The Skeptic
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- The Spectator
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- The Assassin
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- The Hunter
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Imagine a girl
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by Ben McPherson
- About the Publisher
“You need to make her tell you,” said Vee.
“Vee,” said Elsa, “do you see how fragile your sister is?”
“This is what you call fragile?” Vee held up her arm. Dark bruises were beginning to appear.
“I’d call that evidence of a fragile mental state. Wouldn’t you, Cal?”
“I would,” I said.
Vee made a scoffing noise.
I turned to Vee. “She doesn’t have your strength, love.”
Footsteps moved toward Licia’s door. The door opened. “Viktoria,” said Licia, “I want to apologize to you with all my heart.”
“Who was that?” said Vee.
“I’m so sorry, Vee, I should never have gripped your arm like that. I don’t know what made me do it.”
“Why won’t you tell us what happened?”
But Licia just smiled blankly.
Thirty-Seven
Elsa insisted we take the boat out. And when Licia said she would wait for us at home, Elsa continued quietly to insist. We were a family, she said, and we must behave like a family. Eventually Licia gave in. And so we walked to the marina, set off down the fjord in our little red speedboat. The day was hot, the water flat. No one spoke much, but Vee and Licia did not argue.
When we reached Håøya we moored in the same natural harbor as we had a year ago, took the same path across the island. Heavy clouds were rolling in across the fjord.
As we passed Quisling’s cabin, Licia stiffened. A group of goth kids were sitting on the porch by the carved wooden door, smoking a large joint. Licia stared at them as we passed. They seemed to recognize her, then us.
“We really should burn this cabin to the ground,” said Vee, loud enough to hear. “It’s like a magnet for assholes.” The goth kids spoke words among themselves that we did not hear, stared defiantly at us.
We walked on in silence till we came to the willow tree. Elsa gathered the branches, opening them as if they were a curtain, and we stepped inside. The tree had grown more than we could have imagined, though we had to stoop. Only Vee and Franklin could stand upright. Elsa knelt and undid the cane-and-wire enclosure that Henrik had made, and we hunkered down in a circle, smiling at each other.
Elsa spoke. “Licia, we wanted to fix in our minds the image of you sleeping on your grassy bank at Garden Island.”
Licia swallowed hard, looked at the ground.