He didn’t kiss her when he came into the room, but walked over to the coffee machine instead. “Well?” he asked.

She looked at his back. “I did it. How about you?”

The appliance hissed and buzzed as he murmured, “It’s all packed up.”

“All of it? Really—already? How many packages are there?”

He turned to face her. “At least a couple dozen. I didn’t count them properly.” His mouth took on a grim expression. “The thing is, they aren’t all small, unremarkable packages like this morning. Make sure you take that into account.”

“Are there any that won’t fit in my bag?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you—”

“There’s a limit to what I can cope with,” he answered brusquely.

She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, then closed it again.

10

10

Perhaps he shouldn’t have had anything to drink. Or not as much, anyway. Alcohol always made him irritable. But even so, he would have felt a lot better if Luuk and Alex hadn’t been so goddamn annoying. Luuk was the worst of the two, claiming that Ralf owed him twenty euros when in fact it was the other way around. Ralf had come very close to pounding that smug grin off his face with his fists.

Luckily, Rick had dropped by. Their arrangement for tomorrow was still on. He would make sure he had money at home—cash up front.

Ralf crossed the deserted street, jingling his keys. He didn’t mind walking home. He thought of Brian and his DUI. Ralf would go completely nuts if that happened to him. Without his car, he’d be stuck at home with his mother, who always looked at him like he was the biggest mistake of her life.

A bicycle was leaning against the façade of one of the buildings. Plastic flowers hung in a garland from the handlebars, and there was a toddler seat on the back. The bike was fastened to a drainpipe with an expensive lock. Impulsively, Ralf pushed it over. Stamped on the rear wheel and the chain guard, then kicked the rear light until it broke. He cursed under his breath and hurried on.

11

11

“It’s eleven o’clock, Sara. Bedtime.”

Sara pretended not to hear her, sitting with raised knees on one of the leather armchairs by the kitchen table and watching an American show on her laptop. She wore a thin pair of flannel pajamas that would have been cute when she was twelve, but which now emphasized her curves. None of Sara’s clothes were cute anymore, Helen realized. She had become a woman. And it had all happened overnight.

“I’m talking to you.”

Sara’s tweezed eyebrows shrank into a frown. “Mom, I don’t have class until second period tomorrow.”

“Then you can read awhile in bed.”

Sara rolled her eyes.

Helen opened her mouth in reprimand, but managed to swallow her words just in time.