Jeppe held her face between his hands and kissed her. Sara felt the familiar mix of tingly new-love excitement paired with the exhaustion that hit her every night after the girls had been put to bed. “Love isn’t like in the movies,” someone had sung and they were right. Only when the children were asleep and the Violent Crimes Department was far away could love be like in the movies, even if just in little glimpses. If only she weren’t so tired.

“How was your day?” He tucked one of her curls behind her ear.

“Fine, same old, same old. I took the girls to see a film. Come on, let’s go in the living room. I’ll get you a beer.”

She closed the French doors behind them. “Look, I cleaned the place up.”

Jeppe looked around the living room, which seemed to be its usual messy self.

“Okay, okay!” Sara confessed. “So I didn’t get very far. It’s scary how little I get done even when I’m not working.”

He smiled, looking like he was holding back. It wasn’t something they said out loud, but they both knew their differing standards for neatness was one of the many stumbling blocks on their road to possibly moving in together.

“I brought Oscar’s computer,” Jeppe said, flopping onto the sofa. “I know you’re actually off tomorrow, but…”

Sara considered for a second, mostly for her own consciousness’ sake. She already knew that work would win over family time.

“I’ll take a look at it. Maybe I can get my mother to watch the girls for a couple of hours.” She sat down next to him. “Has it been checked for fingerprints?”

“The crime scene technicians found several sets, not just Oscar’s. They’re in the process of comparing them to the family’s to see if there are any we can’t identify.” He opened the beer and drank with a sigh of satisfaction. “There was a letter to the parents. No sender, just an Oscar Wilde quote about something about a knife and the past having to die.”

“A ransom note?”

“We don’t know yet.” Jeppe shrugged. “No contact yet, and no demands.”

Sara shook her head, then reached over for his beer and took a swig.

“You don’t like talking about it?” he asked.

She tilted her head evasively and said, “It’s just, you know… a child going missing… When you have kids, that’s the worst thing imaginable.”

Jeppe took back his beer, emptied it, and set it down.

“I can’t think about it anymore, either. Let’s go to bed.”

She let him pull her into the bedroom. Protested half-heartedly, but at the same time enjoyed the feel of his hands and eyes on her body. She succumbed.

“Mommy, I had a nightmare.”