His face fell. “All these years, you’ve been complaining that you never appear in any vacation photos because you’re always the one who has to take them. This time, I try to be considerate for once, and it still isn’t good enough.” Werner took her by the elbow and pulled her toward him. He threw his arms around her and kissed her forehead. Gave her a slight shake. “Come on, Helen. Lighten up a little. Today is a special day.”

7

7

“There! There it is.”

Ralf spotted Werner’s Mercedes before Sara. It stood in a sandy parking lot next to a building that served as a visitor center.

Anxiously, he drove his Polo into the lot and pulled up alongside an old Land Rover—the only other car there.

He got out and walked up to the Mercedes. The visitor center looked closed. A stream gurgled somewhere nearby.

“What now?” asked Sara, peering into her parents’ car.

Ralf put his hand on the hood. It was still warm. He looked around and hurried over to an information board. “Seven Sisters Country Park” was written at the top. This part of the site was a large forest full of mountain-bike trails, while the cliffs were on the other side of the road and were accessible only on foot. The first route led through a valley and along a small stream, with a steep climb at the other end. The second was shorter and ran straight across the hills.

“‘For less experienced walkers,’” read Sara, who had appeared next to him. She looked at Ralf. “I don’t think my parents do much hiking.”

“The second route, then?” Ralf didn’t wait for her to respond, quickly walking back to his car. He opened the trunk, unzipped his bag, and rummaged through his things. He turned his body slightly to conceal his actions from Sara and placed the gun under his waistband.

8

8

The wind whipped around them. The gray clouds constantly changed shape and hue. A pale sun cast its diffuse light over the hills. The shifting illumination produced a threatening atmosphere, as if the scenery had been filmed through a dark lens. And yet there was also something romantic, Helen thought, about being swept up in this immense landscape. From a distance, she and Werner would look like slowly moving dots on an endless green stage. There was nobody else here, as far as the eye could see.

Helen was in decent shape, but she was still panting a little. There was almost no level ground; each step took them higher and higher. Sometimes Werner walked ahead of her, sometimes alongside her, avoiding rocks, his hands in his jacket pockets. He was wearing a scarf, and his hair was tucked underneath a knitted gray hat.

“Werner?”

He looked at her.

“Maybe we should move,” she said.

“Where to?”