But beside those five minutes at the hospital that Bronzelius stole for him, he refused to give an inch. No promises, no information, nothing.

‘Focus on yourself,’ Bronzelius said. ‘That’s my only advice.’

But there was something about the way he said it. Something in his eyes, his expression when he looked at Jacob, which seemed to open a door rather than close it.

‘But he’s not going to disappear?’ Jacob asked. ‘You won’t make him disappear?’

Bronzelius just shook his head, almost imperceptibly. ‘No,’ he muttered. ‘This is Sweden. People don’t disappear here.’

And that was all. That was all he got, the only straw he has to cling to.

*

As soon as he gets off the train and steps down onto the platform, it feels like a mistake to have gone back to Eskilstuna. It feels like too much, too soon. He swore he’d never, ever return. Just keep moving forward and upward and never ever look back. That was the promise he made to himself. The promise that allowed him to survive his home and school and everything he swore never to think about or share with anyone.

When he opens his eyes he sees a light, cold rain falling in the lights of the station.

But he knows it won’t work any more. He knows that Myriam was right when she found him in Beirut. It was an illusion from the beginning. You can’t hide from who you are.

It’s just a few minutes’ walk from the station to the yellow brick buildings, the white balconies, the vodka bottles, the cigarette butts. His childhood. He still had the key in a small box in his room in Uppsala. He couldn’t quite let go of it during his studies, no matter how much he wanted to, and now he’s holding it in his sweaty hand as he opens the door to the apartment building.

But he stops there, unable to take another step. Then he feels Yassim’s hand in his, feels him gently pulling him up the echoing stairwell, hears Yassim’s voice whispering in his ear: ‘Don’t be afraid, Jacob. Don’t be afraid any more.’

She doesn’t answer when he rings the doorbell, but he didn’t expect she would. He carefully puts the key in the lock and turns it. It’s been so long since he opened this door, still he remembers the exact movement, how the lock slides and clicks. He remembers the vacuum suck as he pulls open the heavy door of a musty apartment and the stench of smoke and alcohol and closed windows with curtains drawn.