Henrik stepped into the hall from the kitchen. “Important not to be dramatic. I shall drive you.”

“I mean, Henrik, that’s great, but it doesn’t feel—”

Henrik cut me off. “If it is terrorism, we do not want such people to win. And if it is not terrorism, what is the risk? Your marriage is a precious thing to you, no?”

“Wait,” I said. “Henrik, no disrespect, but Vee is in pieces, and we haven’t spoken to Licia.”

“Viktoria is playing a computer game, which involves shooting people and then dancing. I do not think she is in pieces.”

Elsa smiled. “I texted with Licia. She was fine.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Something about this doesn’t feel right.”

“Cal, you must go,” said Henrik. “Simple.”

“Henrik,” I said, “again, with respect, it isn’t simple.”

“What Viktoria needs is calm and normality. A good walk, out in nature. Pine trees and forest animals. Maybe we will see an elusive moose.”

“Or I could come with you, Dad.” Vee’s voice. She had slipped into the room, unseen. “Please, Dad?”

Four

Elsa swung the wheel, slipped the motor into gear. The engine note rose, and our little rented speedboat continued its arc out of the bay and into the fjord beyond. Vee lay on the sun seats by the motor, staring up at the sky. Beside her, her laptop bag and her gaming headset.

I sat beside Elsa, the passenger seat angled toward her, my bare feet on the edge of her seat, watching her. A woman perfectly in command of a boat, in a strapless black dress and fitted life preserver. An everyday sight in Norway, perhaps; still exotic to me.

“What?” said Elsa.

I grinned. “You, at the helm of a small speedboat.”

“Eyes on the water in front, Mum,” shouted Vee from behind us. “And Dad, shut up.”

“Okay, love.” Elsa grinned, and turned to face forward.

The boat was an indulgence. We couldn’t afford it, but everyone we knew in Oslo had one. And besides, Elsa was comfortable on the water. She stood behind the windshield, sunglasses pushed high on her head, turning from time to time to check for other boats coming in from the side, watching the marina disappear behind us, poised and in control. The engine pitch rose to a soft whine; the bow of the boat kicked up.

Elsa looked at me and nodded. I rose and we took a step forward, used our weight to bring the nose of the boat down, stepped back into place. I sat down. In seconds we were skimming fast across the fjord, cutting a perfect wake across the glassy water.

Vee’s eyes were closed now.

Elsa leaned in to me, whispered. “You smell of really good food.”

“I smell of sweat and sexual frustration.”

“Trust me, you don’t.”