‘Then you’d better hike up the price on those tablecloths,’ he said and shuffled off toward the door. ‘See you in a bit.’

When I tried to put the cap back on the marker, my hands were shaking so hard I got myself on the knuckle and while I was rubbing the spot, I pictured the dark secret Håkan and I shared spreading from person to person; I envisioned the spread like a diagram. It seemed inevitable. Like all the misery afflicting me and my family.

A paralysing sense of inescapable fate had seized me. It was absolutely clear to me that we were dealing with forces against which resistance was futile. Doomed to fail. My eyes darted around the shelves before settling on the glass display case at the far end of the shop, right next to the front door. It showcased Dad’s art treasures, gifts from the many Sami artists he had got to know in his day. That the artefacts were not for sale lent the shop a certain craft museum-like air, which I felt dignified the commerce, and encouraged it. There were boxes and guksis. Knives with elaborate sheaths. Ptarmigans coaxed out of the wood of the curly birch. A white, ghost-white, reindeer antler. And surrounded by all these objects, like some kind of chieftain, a strange wooden figure. The Hoarfrost Man was tall and emaciated like an old tree and his face was made of horn and from this hard face, grim like the face of a skeleton, stared a big, almond-shaped eye. It looked at me and I knew it would never blink.

Anders was in the kitchen…

Anders was in the kitchen, dressed in a fleece jacket and undies. He had discovered a pack of tortillas in the freezer. The paper-thin breads couldn’t be separated, so he broke them into shards that he slipped in between his lips.

Then he heard a bang. A shot from a small gun.

He went out onto the front steps. Stava had heard it too. They exchanged a look. Stava walked up toward the road and Anders crept along behind her.

Someone was running toward them. A police officer. A woman with blonde, flowing hair. It looked like she had run at full pelt until her strength had given out, because she was stumbling along with her mouth wide open. Anders’ first reaction was to want to hide. But there was no need. Even though she passed by just a few feet away from them, she didn’t seem to notice them. Where the road curved, she tramped up into the forest.

Soon after, a wolf appeared and after it a woman at a trot. It was the one who had shown them to the cabin they were staying in. Ipa. She didn’t seem to notice them either; it was as though they didn’t exist. The wolf slipped in among the trees and she followed.

*