“You don’t have to explain,” he replied.

I took the seat beside Licia. She watched Edvard go, then turned to me. “Why did you let him touch you like that?”

“Edvard’s a friend,” I said.

She considered this. “Edvard looks like a homosexual. So emotional.”

“Are you asking if Edvard is gay?”

“Is he?”

“He is your godfather Jo’s partner. You didn’t realize? And he’s emotional because he’s glad, Licia. For us. For you. Because you’re back from the dead.”

“You didn’t think I was dead.”

“We did,” I said. I took her hand in mine. Made sure she met my gaze. “By the end we all did.”

She frowned, looked away. “You’re wrong,” she said, as if correcting a simple mistake. “They sent you proof that I was alive. Time-stamped before and after. So that you would know.”

“Before and after what?”

She shook her head as if shaking away a thought.

“My God. Alicia Curtis!”

Mikkel Hansen was standing before us in his stained suit. Strange to see him smiling; I had grown used to his hangdog look. I reached forward to shake his hand, but he bear-hugged me. “Your daughter! She’s here.” I patted him on the back and ended the embrace. He stood, dirty, in clothes that were days old, smiling the most radiant smile. I tried hard to return the smile. His pleasure was genuine. I had been wrong about this man, I thought. I had judged him very harshly.

Licia was sitting stiffly on the blue sofa, staring studiedly ahead of her. I crouched down beside her. “Licia,” I said, “this is Mikkel Hansen. He has been working on your case for a year.”

“Didn’t make a lot of difference,” she said.

Hansen pretended he hadn’t heard. He held out his hand. “I’m so pleased finally to meet you, Alicia. Perhaps we could speak somewhere quieter?” He turned to me. “Tvist will be more happy than you can imagine. Everyone will.”

Licia looked at his hand. “Why?” But she got to her feet and followed him as he led us through the office and into the interrogation room at the end.

“Be right with you,” said Hansen. “Going to get the boss.” He disappeared. Licia and I sat in facing chairs. I leaned forward, took her hands in mine. “Licia, you know no one sent me any proof you were alive.”

“Two videos.”

Of course. The near-black screen. The faint profile. The in-in-and-out of the breathing as she slept.

I laughed. “I’m an idiot.”

Licia looked at me, not understanding.

“We thought someone was trying to cast suspicion on your mum.”

“Why are you laughing?” Licia looked as if she were about to cry.

“Because it’s like some horrible joke, Licia. It never once occurred to us that it could be you. Who did you say sent the videos?”

“I didn’t.”