Helen parked her car next to Werner’s Mercedes and got out. The façade of Wildenbergh was dimly lit by a streetlight half-hidden by trees across the way. People said that novelty always wears off, and maybe that was true for them. But every day, Helen felt blessed to live in such a magnificent house. There was a downside, however, which she had come to feel ever more keenly over the last few years. The richer she and Werner had grown materially, the poorer their relationship had become. As though the house, the cars, and the designer clothes were only so much paper over the widening cracks between them. Once upon a time, they had been a team, or at least it had felt that way; lately, however, they had been living parallel lives, Werner always buried in his work. Of course, he could always hire an assistant, but he never did. That’s not my style of management.

She consoled herself with the thought that they weren’t the only couple on autopilot. There were plenty of others who slept in separate beds, had different hobbies and interests, even went on vacation without each other. No arguments, but no passion either. And yet those others had started out as soul mates too, full of shared plans and ideas for the future. Helen’s eyes were drawn toward the sky, where a crescent moon was edging the clouds with silver. When she was four, Sara had looked up in awe and whispered, “Mommy, can you see that? That’s the real moon!” Werner had picked up their daughter and thrown his arm around Helen, and the three of them had stood there, looking up at the sky while Werner told Sara an improvised story about moonmen. It had been a magical moment. Helen had felt connected to her husband and her daughter from the depths of her being.

We still have each other . . .

She locked her car and walked toward the gate, her gym bag in hand. Her eyes had to adjust to the darkness behind the house. Aside from the faint glow from the pool, there had been no lights in the yard for a while now. Problems with the fittings, which had short-circuited a few times. Nobody had gotten around to calling an electrician yet.

She heard something rustling and looked up—a hedgehog? Or had she just imagined it? She instinctively drew her bag closer to her, quickened her pace, and entered the house through the back door.

13

13

Ralf crawled into the driver’s seat. He tried to put the key in the ignition, but his fingers were shaking so violently that he only managed it on the third attempt. Panting, he pulled off his balaclava and laid his neck against the cool headrest. Tried to get his breathing under control.