They pushed the doors to Labor & Delivery open. Henrik Levin tried to follow the staff as they pushed Emma in on a gurney, but the weight of Vilma in his arms and Felix’s short legs caused him to lag behind.

A nurse was talking to him, but he couldn’t listen; his only thought was to follow Emma.

He felt angry and scared. Then the nurse disappeared, but her voice hung in the air.

“We’ll take care of her now,” he heard her say.

He stopped, trying to put Vilma down, but she clung to him, clutching his neck. Only then did he hear Emma sobbing.

He stood there, frozen, watching as the doors to the examination room closed.

* * *

Jana Berzelius grabbed the knife from her back. She crouched, moving silently and quickly toward the boathouse. Her hair danced in the wind—straight back, up, sideways—following the gusts from the sea.

The little boathouse stood right on the water, protected by the steep cliffs and the thin pine trees. No windows, just a double door facing the trees.

There were no tracks in the snow here, either. Either no one had been here, or the tracks had already disappeared in the heavy snowfall.

She concentrated on not slipping, and moved carefully forward, one foot in front of the other. Right foot, then left.

She stood with her back against the structure. She listened, but it was impossible to distinguish any sounds other than the howling wind and the sloshing sea.

She felt the door carefully, the soft, damp wood, and found that it was unlocked. Taking a deep breath, she counted to three, yanked the door open and stepped in.

She gripped the knife handle in one hand, flashlight in the other. She stood and listened again, sweeping the beam of light over the floor and ceiling. It was a large boathouse, with a rotting staircase leading to an upper level.

She continued in. There were gaps between the planks, and it was cold and damp. She could still hear the wind, but it was muffled.

She relaxed her grip on the knife, replacing it at the base of her spine and letting her hand sink down when she realized she was alone.

Danilo was not here!

Rage swelled inside her, and she could do nothing to stop it. She punched the wall several times. Again and again. She had wished, hoped, believed that he would be here, and with every strike, she cursed herself for being so idiotic that she had thought these meaningless thoughts. Why would he have stayed when he knew that Pim could expose him?