Bronzelius stops in front of a door that a police officer is guarding. They exchange a few words, but Jacob is so exhausted and drowsy he doesn’t really process what they’re saying. The door opens and Bronzelius pushes him gently through it.

‘You have five minutes,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry, but that’s all I can give you.’

In the bed in this small room, Yassim is lying on his back on white sheets. His head rests against the pillow, his eyes are closed, and an overwhelming tenderness sneaks over Jacob. He hurries to the bed, leans over it. An IV in Yassim’s arm, a white, freshly dressed bandage on his chest. Yassim turns his head and opens his eyes.

‘You’re here,’ he whispers faintly.

Jacob nods and takes Yassim’s face between his hands, gently kisses those dry lips. Something rattles at the edge of the bed, and Jacob turns and sees that Yassim is handcuffed to the bedframe.

‘I think they’ll be keeping me a while,’ he says.

‘What are they going to do to you?’ Jacob says. ‘What’s going on?’

He turns around and sees Bronzelius’s face in the dim light at the door. ‘I’m afraid your friend will have to stay with us,’ he says. ‘He’s been connected to ISIS. Acted as courier.’

‘He was exposing them!’ Jacob bursts out.

He stands up, turns completely towards Bronzelius with his hands at his sides. The insight hits him ever more fully and leaves him with a paralyzing sense of powerlessness. Someone is going to have to pay, someone will be made responsible. And they’ve decided that’s Yassim.

‘You have three minutes left,’ Bronzelius says drily. ‘It’s up to you what you do with them.’

Jacob can feel he’s shaking now, but he turns back to Yassim, leans over him again, sinks down beside him, places his head so they’re side by side.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispers. ‘I…’

‘Shhh, shh,’ Yassim whispers. ‘I’m not sorry. We did the right thing, darling.’

Jacob feels tears welling up behind his eyes, feels his throat burning and the lump there growing. Yassim’s skin against his lips.

‘You can’t disappear,’ he whispers. ‘We just met.’

*

When the train stops at Eskilstuna, Jacob takes a deep breath and squeezes the armrest. He closes his eyes. It’s been two days since he left Yassim at the hospital. A day since Bronzelius let him leave the police station.

‘We’ll have to talk to you again,’ Bronzelius told him. ‘Don’t go too far.’

Jacob has already told them everything they wanted to know. Answered every question in the most minute detail as best he could. All in the hope that Bronzelius would answer just one of his own: ‘What is going to happen to Yassim?’