He got straight to the point: “The Ringfallene Company wants to develop the Sister Falls.”

“What?”

I sat down on the hard chair beside the telephone. The summer sunshine poured through the window and illuminated the dust particles in the air.

“Ringfallene purchased the water rights on the falls at a bargain price when development of the River Breio commenced. And now they want to make use of them.”

I was unable to respond immediately, could feel how I wasn’t relaxed on the chair, but rather prepared to leap into action.

“Signe?”

“I’m here.”

“You understand what this means?”

My mouth was dry.

“The Sister Falls will disappear,” I said.

“Yes. The Sister Falls will disappear—711 meters of free-falling water obliterated, as if it had never been there. Norway has no other waterfalls like those two, and now they are going to be diverted through a pipeline.”

I drew a breath. “And the water?” I asked.

“They are building another dam on the mountain, a few kilometers from the last one. And they want to channel the water down into a tunnel from this one too.”

“But . . . where? Channel it where?”

“To the power plant, of course,” he said and laughed a short, brittle laugh. “Toward Ringfjorden.”

“Away from Eidesdalen?”

“Lake Eide will be drained, Signe. And the majority of the revenues will go to Ringfjorden.”

I couldn’t make sense of it and asked confused questions that caused him to talk even louder, even faster.

“It’s your mother,” he said. “And Svein. They are the ones who will profit from this, Signe, with all their shares in Ringfallene. The Sister Falls will make them extremely wealthy.”

Mamma. Svein.

“Signe?”

“I’m here.”

“Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“What about Sønstebø?” I asked. “Magnus’s parents?”

“Sønstebø lost the summer farm last time. This time he’s losing his entire livelihood.”

We went home the following weekend. I drove. Magnus wanted me to, didn’t want us to be one of those traditional couples where he always did the driving. I drove even though my body was too agitated. I was too angry, too restless. On the other hand, he was apparently unperturbed, speaking about the view, about the weather, about nothing. I didn’t understand how he could be so calm.

The sun broke through the clouds as we approached Ringfjorden. The road clung tightly to the mountainsides, narrow and curving, almost at sea level, wet from the rain, a shiny snake in the terrain. I tried to concentrate on getting there, but when we reached the crossing where the road to Eidesdalen turned off, a sudden impulse caused me to turn and take the road leading to the mountain.

“Aren’t we going to Ringfjorden?” Magnus asked. “Isn’t your father waiting for us?”

“I want to see the Sister Falls,” I said. “I have to see them.”