‘Do you believe them?’ he asks.

Jacob turns and looks straight into his eyes for the first time since they left the apartment.

‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘You disappear to Syria. You lie. You tell me you’re a photographer and show me pictures I don’t think you’ve taken. You have a gun under the table in an apartment that’s far too big and expensive.’

He looks out into the rain again.

‘What the hell am I supposed to think?’

Yassim just nods gently and looks at him steadily. ‘Who’s contacted you? The Americans?’

Jacob looks back at him, ignoring the question. ‘Are you a terrorist?’ he asks. ‘Are you, Yassim?’

22 November

Stockholm

Klara shakes the envelope, and a gold American Express card falls out onto Maria’s coffee table. She can’t help but smile. Gabi thought of everything.

Maria is still standing with her back to Klara, staring out the window, and Klara downs the last of the wine in her glass before standing up. ‘Thank you so much. You’ve been incredibly helpful.’

Maria turns around and smiles at her. ‘Where are you off to now?’

‘Thought I’d go get myself a hotel room. I can’t exactly stay in Gabi’s taped-off apartment.’

‘That’s out of the question,’ Maria says in a voice that leaves no room for any protest. ‘I live alone and have two guest rooms. You’ll stay here, end of discussion.’

Then she goes and grabs sheets and towels out of a linen closet. Puts the small stack in Klara’s arms and points to the end of the corridor where the guest rooms are located. As she does it she looks deep into Klara’s eyes.

‘How are you doing?’ she says. ‘Have you sought out any help? Gabi’s told me how rough you’ve had it.’

Maria’s warm eyes and pressed, fragrant sheets. Her thoughtfulness and steadiness. Klara feels her eyes fill with tears. She’s been feeling better this autumn, but she still wakes up in the night. Can’t remember when it hasn’t been a struggle to get out of bed in the morning.

‘I don’t know,’ she says, surprised by how thin and small her voice sounds. ‘I’m not drinking as much as I did any more.’

Why did she say that? She knows she drank too much last year, until what happened in the summer. She knows she craves wine too much right now. But she never talked to anyone about it, hardly even admitted it to herself.

‘That’s good,’ Maria says quietly. ‘But maybe you need some real help? We can’t handle everything on our own, no matter how strong we think we are.’