Mia Bolander flung her down jacket in the backseat and sat in the car with a sigh. She looked out through the windshield, at the snowplow moving back and forth in front of them.

Henrik tried to catch her eyes.

“What?” she asked.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to see him anymore.”

“And?”

“Nothing, I just...”

“Can’t a person change her mind?”

“Of course.”

“Well, then.”

They drove in silence through Norrköping in the falling snow. Henrik kept both hands on the steering wheel to prevent the car from drifting when they went through the roundabout at Klockaretorpet.

A wooden gnome smiled kindly at them as they rang the doorbell at 260 Emil Hedelius Street.

The door opened, revealing a man in jeans, long hair reaching down his back. Henrik introduced himself and shook his hand.

“I’m Magnus,” the man said.

“We’re looking for Ida.”

“What did she do?”

“We just want to talk to her. Does she live here?”

“Yes.”

“Who is it?” came a voice from inside the row house.

“Is she home?” Henrik asked.

“Magnus? Who is it?”

They heard footsteps on the stairs before a woman appeared. Her body was cloaked in a floor-length cardigan. Her eyes were red, her cheeks sunken in.

“Henrik Levin, police,” Henrik said. “This is my colleague, Mia Bolander.”

“I’m Petra,” the woman said. Henrik tried to steel himself against the look in her eyes, but he couldn’t. He saw it. The panic.

“Yes, well,” Henrik said. “We’re looking for Ida. You can relax, she’s not a suspect or anything. We just want to talk to her.”

“She isn’t home,” Petra said.

“Do you know where she is?”

“She’s at...a friend’s.”

Henrik heard it now. The fear.

“Can I ask...” he began, meeting Mia’s gaze. She had the same thought, the same question on her lips.

“What is her friend’s name?” Mia finished for him.

“Well...” Magnus started, laughing nervously. “We don’t really know.”

“You don’t really know?”

Magnus took a deep breath.

“Well, this is all so new... The only thing we know is that he calls himself... What was it, Petra?”

“Eternal_sunshine...”

Henrik swallowed.

“May we come in?”

* * *

Jana Berzelius’s hair was still dripping water from her shower as she sat on the sofa with her MacBook on her knees. She spent most of the next two hours searching online. Her search broadened in a number of different directions because she wasn’t completely sure what she was searching for. A few different questions kept nagging her. The first was why her adoption had been shrouded in secrecy.