But what should he do, then? Come clean now about what happened? Even if he somehow avoided jail, he’d have a criminal record for robbery. No company would hire someone with a record. He would be doomed to spend the rest of his life stealing scooters, growing weed, and doing sketchy deals with people like Mikey. Or abetting guys like Brian. Because in hindsight, everybody had been right all along. Brian wasn’t his friend; he had just been using him. And now Ralf was left with his inheritance: thousands of euros of debt owed to a dangerous moron, and a good chance that the police would soon view him as the suspect in a murder case.

He had to get out of this as quickly as possible. He had to get his life back on track. But first, he had to deal with Mikey. He was due to meet him tomorrow, and he was still twenty-five hundred euros short.

“Are you still here?”

He looked up. “Mom?”

She stood silently in the doorway.

He swallowed. “Mom, I just want to say . . . thank you for—”

She held up her hand. “I don’t know what you’re up to, Ralf, and maybe I don’t want to know. I just hope that one day you understand the path you’re currently following leads nowhere.” In a softer voice, she added, “And I hope that day comes before it’s too late.”

Only then did he notice she’d been crying.

7

7

“Helen?”

She knew that voice.

Helen opened her eyes and immediately closed them again. A bright light, directly overhead. She blinked, turned her face away. She was lying flat on her back. The floor was smooth and hard, and around her stood trolleys piled with towels and plastic bags. Close to her head lay a yellow shopping bag. She breathed in the odor of plastic trash-can liners and felt the chill emanating from the packages.

“Helen? Are you OK?” Marjan was looking at her with concern.

“Yeah, I am now.” She struggled from the floor and sat upright. Was this a dream? She felt so strange, so light and shivery.

Marjan was hunkered down beside her. A necklace glittered around her neck. “I was just about to go and get help. You fainted.”

Helen suddenly remembered what had happened and realized that she had hyperventilated. The pressure on her chest, the pain, the lack of oxygen, light-headedness—it all pointed to a panic attack. The last time she’d had one of those had been during her training, when she’d had to give a presentation in front of a packed auditorium.

“You still look pale.”

“I’m feeling much better.”

She braced herself against the wall and stood up. Marjan tried to help her, but she fended her off politely. “Thank you, it’s OK.”