For the first time in a very long while, he could see genuine concern on his mother’s face in place of the usual horrible suspicion and disappointment. Her expression told him that she was ready to listen to him, to stand by his side. That was how she used to look at him in the past, before it all went wrong. The stupid tears kept coming, flowing down his cheeks one after another. He wiped them away angrily.

“Ralf? Let me help you. Please.” She went to lay her hand on his arm, but changed course halfway and leaned against the table instead.

“That guy wants money from me,” he said softly.

“Why? Did you borrow from him?”

“I didn’t. Brian did.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Didn’t I tell you that—”

“Brian was my friend, OK?” It came out more sharply than he had intended.

She stopped talking. Stared at the floor in silence, breathing heavily. Finally, she looked back at him. “But why does that boy want money from you?”

“Because Brian has disappeared.” He sniffed again.

Suddenly, he felt himself growing flushed. He had spoken about Brian in the past tense—Brian was my friend. His mother didn’t seem to have noticed.

“Gone?”

“Yeah. A week ago now.”

“And you don’t have any idea where he might be?”

Ralf scoffed. A scornful voice ran through his mind: Since he was shot dead by Werner Möhring? For all we know, he might be buried in their backyard. Those people have enough room for an entire cemetery.

She looked at him tenderly and laid her hand on his arm. It felt good. He instinctively placed his own hand on top of hers. His mother’s hands were small and slender, with thin skin. He kept looking at them. Back when he was still in elementary school, he had found it fun to hold his hand against his mother’s, palms together. Each time, he had fervently hoped that his fingers would be as long as hers. Now, her hand almost disappeared underneath his.

“How much does this boy want?” she asked.

“Three grand.”

Her eyes widened. “And why do you have to pay it?”

“Because that’s the sort of guy he is.”

“And he wants it on Sunday,” she concluded.

He nodded.

“Is he dangerous, Ralf?”

He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I think so.”

“Then we need to get the police involved.”

2

2

At the bottom of Helen’s locker lay two folded-up shopping bags. She had distributed their contents over three containers, carefully pressing the lids closed. Nobody had seen her do it.

“Could you give Lex a hand?” she heard Anouk ask.

“I’ll be right there.” She updated her patient’s data and checked his drip. The man was currently asleep, but he’d already woken up and gone to the restroom. He could be sent back to the ward.