She could scarcely conceal her surprise. “Do you mean it?”

He looked at her blankly. “Absolutely. Let’s talk about it with the kids at some point.” Then he turned around and continued walking uphill.

The higher they got, the harder the wind blew. It tore at their clothes. Werner didn’t look back once, and Helen did her utmost not to fall behind. She had to place her feet carefully. There were rocks, potholes, and patches of uneven ground hidden beneath the grass and weeds. One false step and she would sprain her ankle, or worse. Every now and then, she looked up at Werner’s back—his stooped posture, his fist clenched around the stick, the knuckles white.

There was something strange about this hike—it felt more like a military drill. She caught occasional glimpses of Werner’s face. Grim, determined. Werner looked as though he were in pain, as if they weren’t doing this for fun but were undertaking this harsh exercise out of necessity. His temperamental behavior unsettled her. One moment, he was the Werner who cracked jokes and treated her kindly, and the next, it felt like he was looking right through her.

Werner stopped abruptly. He lifted his chin and looked into the distance. Strands of hair poking out from under his hat flapped back and forth, then pressed flat against his temples.

Helen followed Werner’s gaze out to sea. The curve of the hill seemed to fade into nothingness. As if the land suddenly vanished into the now iron-gray sky. She recalled the signs at the visitor center warning hikers that the cliff edges crumbled more and more each year. That was how they remained so beautifully white. She looked at her feet. Then straight ahead. She felt a shudder that seemed to emanate from deep in her belly.

“Werner?” Her scarf whipped against her shoulder.

“This is the first ‘sister,’” he shouted over the wind. He slowly turned to face her. “The highest of the seven.”

When her eyes met his, it was like she was looking at a stranger.

9

9

“I can’t go on.”

Ralf pretended not to hear Sara. Stabs of pain shot through his side and his lungs were on fire, but he refused to give in. He felt his fury toward Brian and Werner mount with each step. If everything had gone according to plan that Friday evening, then Sara would have had to bury her mother last week. For Möhring, it had been about the money—but also about Emily. It wouldn’t have been long before she was introduced to the family as “Dad’s new girlfriend.” And, of course, Emily would have come with Brian in tow. The new stepbrother. And their mother’s murderer. How fucked up was that? How cold, sick, and heartless did you even have to be to come up with something like that, let alone carry it out?

It was impossible to imagine a greater betrayal.

10

10