They walked up Kungsgatan, alongside men and women with strollers and a few joggers. They passed a beggar holding out a paper cup, shaking the coins inside in hopes of attracting attention. They turned left onto Sandgatan and continued over the bridge, passing three men in thick overalls leaning against the black railing with long fishing poles in their hands. The snowflakes had formed a white blanket on their shoulders and knit caps.

Per talked the whole time. She directed the conversation to him and his work, which wasn’t hard. When he asked questions, she gave short answers, then either returned the question or was quiet. She hadn’t planned to have lunch with anyone that day, but when she walked along in the falling snow with Per next to her, she realized with astonishment that her thoughts of Robin Stenberg and Ida Eklund slowly faded and that Per was actually quite good company.

* * *

Henrik Levin got out of the car and inhaled deeply, thinking that winter didn’t smell as much. What did snow actually smell like, though?

Mia walked next to him, texting with Martin Strömberg.

“You can put your phone away now,” Henrik said as he rang the doorbell. They were standing outside the Eklunds’ row house and heard the bell ring melodically inside the house.

After a moment, Petra opened the door, a smile on her face. When she saw Henrik and Mia, she took a few steps backward in the hall.

“Come in, come in,” she said, happening to catch a jacket that fell from its hanger on the coatrack to the floor. She picked it up, laughing as she replaced it on the hanger.

“It’s Ida’s jacket,” she said. “Sorry, I’m just so happy she’s home again!”

She gestured with her hand, repeating that they should come in. Henrik and Mia followed her through the hallway and into the kitchen, where Petra set out coffee cups and invited them to sit at the table. Just then, Magnus entered and said hello.

“Ida, the police are here now,” Petra called. Ida came into the kitchen immediately, pulled up the zipper on her hooded sweatshirt and sat between her parents. They looked at her, but she avoided their eyes. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying.

“My name is Henrik Levin, and I’m the detective chief inspector. This is my colleague Mia Bolander,” Henrik said.

“I haven’t been hiding, if that’s what you think,” Ida said impatiently, as if she had already explained this many times.

“We don’t think that,” Henrik said. “But we are wondering where you’ve been.”

“I stayed overnight at a friend’s.”

“Whose name is...?”

“‘Whose name is...’” she muttered sullenly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was at Sofia’s, who else?”

“Sofia is clearly also a new friend we didn’t know about,” Magnus explained.