She rushed to the cliff but stumbled and fell, landing on her back. She regained her balance immediately and ran even faster. Her feet drummed against the slippery stones, and he couldn’t withstand the force as she rushed at him from behind. She gripped his throat and pulled him along with her.

They fell.

She landed badly, hitting her head on the cliff and feeling a terrible stabbing pain. He lay next to her. She forced herself to her knees and pressed the knife against him, but he had more strength left than she had counted on. He got his hand up, pushing hers back, and she felt the strength running out of her arms. She knew she couldn’t resist much longer. She saw that the bloodstain on his shirt was large and seemed to grow. His rib cage moved slowly up and down.

The tip of the knife turned 180 degrees, from his throat to hers. He tried to hold his hand still, but it shook so much that the sharp blade scratched against her skin.

“Do it, then,” she said.

Her heart was pounding. She could hear it. It sounded like an angry blacksmith striking the anvil with his hammer twice per second.

“Do what you want to do. Push the knife in,” she said again.

She closed her eyes, waiting.

He looked at her and then shook his head almost unnoticeably.

Then he relaxed his arm, tossed the knife aside, let his head sink down to the rock, held his hand to his stomach and panted.

She looked at him in surprise.

“I know you don’t understand,” he said. “But I can’t kill you.”

* * *

They had traveled quickly over the bare treetops and fields that were white as frosting. They had passed isolated roads and large farms.

Now they were flying at low altitude along the coastal cliffs. The sound was thunderous, and the rotor blades flashed in front of the windshield. Mia Bolander held her hands to her earmuffs and thought about the investigation, everything that she had done to show that she was worthy of a place in the new organization. Everything Gunnar hadn’t seen. Or had chosen not to see. Or maybe he’d seen but had already decided.

He hadn’t said it directly to her, but she knew. Unspoken opinions were the worst. Ones that weren’t articulated but could be sensed.

Gunnar’s body language had told her everything she needed to know. She had summed up all of his looks, heard his sighs, seen his clenched teeth, and understood everything he actually wanted to say, but that he hadn’t yet dared to say straight out to her. That she was no longer one of them. One of the team.

She sighed and leaned forward, looking over the sea and strip of coastline. The pilot had radio contact with someone and they talked about turning back.