The shriek that woke her seemed to come from a deep abyss. Not until she felt Niclas's hands on her shoulders, shaking her hard, did she realize that it was her own voice. For an instant relief washed over her. All that evil had been a dream. Sara was alive and well; it was only a nightmare playing a nasty trick on her. But then she looked into Niclas's eyes, and what she saw made a new scream build up in her breast. He forestalled this by pulling her close to him, so that the scream metamorphosed into deep sobs. His shirt was wet in front and she tasted the unfamiliar salt of his tears.

'Sara, Sara,' she moaned. Even though she was now awake she was still in freefall through space. The only thing holding her back was the pressure of Niclas's arms round her body.

'I know, I know.' He rocked her, his voice thick.

'Where have you been?' she sobbed quietly, but he just kept rocking her and stroking her hair with a trembling hand.

'Shh, I'm here now. Go back to sleep

'I can't!'

'Yes, you can. Shh…' And he rocked her rhythmically until the darkness and the dreams again descended upon her.

The news had spread through the police station while they were out. Dead children were a rarity, the victims of the occasional rare car accident, perhaps. Nothing else could cast such a pall of sadness over the whole building.

Annika gave Patrik a questioning look when he and Martin passed the reception desk, but he didn't feel like talking to anyone. He just wanted to go to his office and close the door. They ran into Ernst Lundgren in the corridor but he didn't say anything cither, so Patrik quickly slipped into the silence of his little den and Martin did the same. There was nothing in their professional training that prepared any of them for situations like this. Informing someone of a death was one of the most odious tasks of their profession. Informing parents of the death of a child in an accident was worse than anything else. It defied all sense and all decency. No one should have to be forced to deliver such news.

Patrik sat down at his desk, rested his head in his hands, and closed his eyes. Soon he opened his eyes again, because all he could see in the dark behind his eyelids was Sara's bluish, pale skin and her eyes that stared unseeing at the sky. Instead he picked up the picture frame that stood before him and brought the glass as close to his face as possible. The first picture of Maja. Exhausted and bruised, resting in Erica's arms in the maternity ward. Ugly yet beautiful, in that unique way that only those who have seen their child for the first time can understand. And Erica, worn out and smiling feebly, but with a new sense of resolve and pride over having accomplished something that could only be described as a miracle.

Patrik knew that he was being sentimental and maudlin. But It was only now, this morning, that he had understood the scope of the responsibility that had been placed in his hands with his daughter's birth. Only now did he realize the extent of both his love and his fear. When he saw the drowned girl lying like a statue on the deck of the boat, for a moment he wished that Maja had never been born. Because how could he live with the risk of losing her?

He carefully put the photograph back on his desk and leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head. It suddenly felt utterly meaningless to continue with the tasks he'd been working on before they got the call from Fjällbacka. Most of all he wanted to drive home, crawl into bed and pull the covers over his head for the rest of the day. A knock on the door interrupted his dismal ruminations. 'Come in,' he assented and Annika cautiously pushed open the door.

'Hi, Patrik, excuse me for disturbing you. But I just wanted to tell you that Forensic Medicine rang and said they'd received the body. We'll have the autopsy report the day after tomorrow.'

Patrik gave a weary nod. 'Thanks, Annika.'

She hesitated. 'Did you know her?'

'Yes, I've met the girl, Sara, and her mother quite a few times lately. Charlotte and Erica have been spending a good deal of time together since Maja was born.'

'How do you think it happened?'

He sighed and fidgeted absently with the papers before him without looking up. 'She drowned, as I'm sure you heard. Apparently she went down to the wharf to play, fell in the water, and then couldn't get out. The water is so cold that she probably got hypothermia very quickly. But driving out to tell Charlotte, that was the most terrible…' His voice broke and he turned away so that Annika wouldn't see how the tears threatened to spill out of his eyes.

She tactfully closed the door to his office and left him in peace. She wasn't going to get much done on a day like this, either.

Erica looked at the clock again. Charlotte should have been here half an hour ago. She carefully shifted Maja, who was snoozing at her breast, and reached for the telephone. It rang many times at Charlotte's house, but no one answered. How odd. She must have gone out and forgotten that they were supposed to get together that afternoon. Although that really wasn't like her.

Erica felt that they had become close friends in a very short time. Maybe because they both were in a fragile time of their lives, maybe because they were simply very similar to each other. It was funny, really. She and Charlotte seemed more like sisters than she and Anna ever had. She knew that Charlotte worried about her, and that gave her a secure feeling in the midst of all the chaos. Her whole life Erica had worried about other people, especially Anna. To be viewed for once as the person who was little and scared felt strangely liberating.

At the same time she knew that Charlotte had her own problems. It wasn't only that she and her family were forced to live at home with her parents, Lilian and Stig. Lilian especially didn't seem easy to live with. But something unsure and tense came over Charlotte's face each time she talked about her husband Niclas. Erica had only met him briefly on a few occasions, but her spontaneous impression was that there was something unreliable about the man. Or perhaps unreliable was too strong a word. Maybe it was more a feeling that Niclas was one of those people who has good intentions but in the end will always allow his own needs and desires to take precedence over everyone else's. Charlotte had told her a few things that had confirmed this impression, even though she mostly had to read between the lines, since her friend usually spoke of her husband in adoring terms. Charlotte looked up to Niclas and on several occasions had said straight out that she couldn't understand how she had been so lucky. It seemed inconceivable to her that she was married to someone like him.

Erica could see, of course, that from a purely objective point of view he rated higher on the looks scale than Charlotte. Tall, blond, and handsome was the ladies' assessment of the new doctor. And he had certainly had an extensive academic background, unlike his wife. But if one looked at their inner qualities, Erica realized that the situation was just the opposite. Niclas ought to be thanking his lucky stars. Charlotte was a loving, wise, gentle human being and as soon as Erica managed to pull herself out of this listless state, she was going to do everything she could to make Charlotte realize her own strong points. Unfortunately at the moment Erica had no energy to do more than ponder her friend's situation.

A couple of hours later darkness had fallen, and the storm had reached full force outside her window. Erica saw by the clock that she must have dozed off for an hour or two with Maja, who was using her breast as a dummy. She was just about to reach for the phone to ring Charlotte when she heard the front door open.

'Hello?' she called. Patrik wasn't due home for an hour or two, so perhaps it was Charlotte finally showing up.