She raised her hands helplessly. “We should have called to tell them they couldn’t come today. The same goes for Thom’s party on Friday. Can’t we postpone it? I mean, we—”

“Absolutely not, Helen. Everything needs to carry on as usual. We have to look normal.”

She dropped her hands. “What if I can’t?”

“Jesus, Helen. Just look at yourself. I thought the recovery room was where you found the toughest people in the hospital? Nurses with balls, because they have to spend all day dealing with life, and death, and macho doctors, right? Or so I’ve always been told.”

“That’s completely different,” she said. “That’s work.”

Helen retreated from his tense glare. She was just as disappointed in her own panicky behavior as he was, though at the same time, she realized that she had already been a little overworked even before the dreadful event had taken place. Her difficult relationship with Werner was eating away at her, and when she got home from work, the children consumed the last remnants of her energy. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night. Or the night before. I can’t get any rest while there’s a corpse in the house.”

“We’re going to sort it out, as soon as we can.”

She didn’t hear him. “Do you know what I was thinking about this morning?”

“What?”

She looked at Werner. “What if he wasn’t alone?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, robbers normally operate in pairs, or in a group.”

“Maybe. I’m no expert in that area.”

She frowned. “But you’ve watched those police reenactment shows, right? Sometimes you get lone criminals robbing gas stations or mugging old people in the street, but nobody ever robs a house on their own.”

“This guy was alone.” He almost snarled the words. “You were there yourself. And it doesn’t make any difference, anyway.” He walked up to her and took her face between his hands. “Stop fretting, Helen. Things are complicated enough as it is. We have a problem, and in the next few days, we’re going to solve it. The important thing right now”—his voice grew milder, and his expression softened—“is that we act like nothing has happened. OK?” He raised an eyebrow. “Whether you think you can do that or not.”

“Yes, but . . .”

“No buts.”

Helen looked at Werner in astonishment. The manager in him had completely taken over. He had always been cooler and more distant than other men, but she and the children also knew his other side—a fun, dedicated father who genuinely cared about his family. She had watched that version of him recede further and further in recent years. People don’t really change, her mother had said to her once. Some character traits just grow stronger over the years, while others fade away.