Tasha nodded but said nothing. Yes, Sven thought, it was better that the young couple should leave. He wanted his sister back, the adventurous, passionate girl he used to know. And he wanted his daughter to embrace her own future.

When Sven woke up the next morning, they were gone. Their furniture and possessions were left neatly in their old rooms. He waited for Natasha to return and to tell him all about the departure.

She did not return. Aud did not call. Anxious, they contacted the police and the immigration authorities. They were told that Pyotr and Aud Vladekovich had docked at Calais a week after leaving Finland, but that was the last Sven heard of his daughter.

He never saw any of them again.

“We’ll park here.” Pyotr nodded and Natasha pulled over. It was a darkened alleyway, set back from the lamp-lit street and at least half a mile from the docks.

“What?” Aud glanced about her. “That’s silly, darling. We can get a lot closer.”

“I prefer to walk, stretch our legs.” Natasha said nothing, she simply opened the door and got out.

Aud gazed at her aunt with annoyance. She wished Daddy had driven them here. Natasha was always giving her mean looks or making snide remarks. She crowded Aud when she wanted to be alone with Pyotr.

“It’s raining,” she pointed out. But Pyotr said nothing; so, obediently, she got out of the car. Perhaps it was sentimental—perhaps he wanted to take his time saying goodbye to Finland. Even so, it was cold.

“Do you have your passport? It would be just like you to have forgotten it,” Natasha said, with a sharp contempt that shocked her niece.

Stung, she retorted, “I’ve got it right here.” Aud pulled it from her breast pocket.

“I’ll take that,” Natasha responded. She moved in and tugged the document free from the younger girl.

“What are you doing?” Aud demanded.

Her aunt turned away. “You won’t be using it,” she answered. “I will.”

“You’re crazy,” Aud cried. “Darling, tell her to shut up!”

But her husband had approached her, and there was a strange look on his face. Not adoration, not affection. He looked . . . indifferent. Even a little bored.

“You can’t seriously have imagined that somebody like you could hold my interest, Aud,” Pyotr said. “You’ve been useful, but that time is at an end.”

“Wh . . . what?”

“You heard me. Kneel down,” he said.

“What? Why?” she shouted. Aud suddenly felt terribly afraid. She wanted her father.

“Because I’m going to kill you,” Pyotr said.

She believed him.

“No!” she screamed.

Pyotr bent swiftly and took up a large stone that was lying by the side of the road. Aud tried to run, but Natasha grabbed her and held her back. Wildly struggling, Aud stared at her, pleading for her life.

“Why are you doing this?” she screamed. “You’re my aunt!”