Helen had also learned that Sara was regularly getting drunk at parties, though at home she would tell them only about the odd glass of wine. She was going out with boys who were much older than she was and who had no prospects. On top of that, she would lie about where she spent the night—and above all, with whom.

Her kind, clever, promising daughter appeared to have a disturbing dark side.

Together with Werner, she had confronted Sara over her actions and her behavior. That had led to a heated fight, in which Sara had turned the tables and accused her mother of underhanded behavior. She had stormed out of the house that evening, furious and distressed, and only returned two days later. There then followed a dreadful phase during which Helen had barely slept a wink, terrified that she would lose her baby. At times, she’d thought Sara had already slipped beyond reach. Only after many weeks and some long, intense conversations did Helen regain a little hope that things would work out for the best. Sara had apologized and promised to turn her life around.

That was five months ago. Helen had stopped monitoring Sara’s movements. The wounds were beginning to heal.

And yet it still gnawed away at her, deep inside.

Helen had missed her own mother terribly during that time, had been so desperate to ask her how she would have reacted, what she would have done. She had mentioned to one or two of her friends that things with Sara were “difficult,” but aside from Werner, there was only one other person who knew about all the ins and outs of the situation. Lex had been a rock back then. Much more so than Werner.

Thursday

Thursday

1

1

Werner was right. This was no manageable, unremarkable package. The object inside the gray garbage bag was the size and shape of a rugby ball. It sat imposingly on top of the rest of the packages in the freezer.

“That one’s coming with me right now,” said Helen.

Werner stood next to her in silence.

A shiver passed through her body. “It has to happen at some point. Then it’ll be out of the way.”

He nodded at the shopping bag. “In there?”

“It won’t fit inside my bag from Rome.”

“Won’t it be too noticeable?”

“Maybe. But if I only carry a few packages each time, it’ll take an eternity. I can’t stand this for much longer, Werner. I want to get it over with.”

“You and me both.” He bent forward and took the package out of the freezer. Placed it in the bag.

Helen lifted it. “Put some more in.”

Werner stared at her like he was worried she’d lost her mind. He didn’t move.