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Higher, clearer somehow. Yet at the same time it also felt strangely closer. But of course that wasn’t true. Obviously the sky and the stars were exactly the same, it was just that he was looking at them from a different place. A distance of more than two thousand miles had simply given him a different perspective on things. And now he was going to have to switch perspective again.
    “Something’s happened, Mom,” he said, without looking away.
    She didn’t answer; she hardly ever did. She just sat still in her wheelchair with a blanket over her thin legs as she looked at the stars. But Atif knew she was listening. She really ought to have gone to bed a long time ago. But on starry nights like this the nurses let her stay up. They knew it made her calmer.
    He took a deep breath. Time to spit it out.
    “I have to go back to Sweden. It’s to do with Adnan,” he went on. He tried to force his mouth to form the words. But to his surprise his mother spoke instead.
    “A-Adnan . . .” Her voice was weak, thin, almost like a child’s. “Adnan isn’t home from school yet.”
    Atif opened his mouth again. Say it, get it over and done with. Tell her what’s happened . But he hesitated a few seconds too long. One of the nurses was heading toward them across the cracked paving.
    “Adnan’s a good boy,” his mother went on. “He’s got a good head for learning, he could be anything he likes. An engineer, or a doctor. You must help him, make sure he doesn’t end up like, like . . .” She fell silent and looked up at the night sky. Atif bit his lip.
    “It’s time for bed now, Mom.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll call you from Sweden. Khalti will come and see you the day after tomorrow. She says she’ll bring some of those dates you like.”
    His mother nodded distantly. Her gaze was fixed on the stars again. Atif straightened up and began to walk away. He’d tell her when he got back. That would have to do.
    “You’ve got a good son, to come and see you so often, Dalia,” she heard the nurse say. “You must be very proud of him.”
    Atif quickened his pace. And tried to convince himself that it was the distance that meant he couldn’t hear her reply.
    •  •  •
    Jesper Stenberg limped toward his car, got in, and then sat behind the wheel for a few moments. His hands were shaking, and his left shoe felt warm and wet.
    Fucking psycho bitch. Why the hell hadn’t he stuck to the plan, said what he had to say and then left? Fucking her and then dumping her wasn’t a very smart thing to do. Not to mention that stupid remark about the private clinic in Switzerland, a subject he should have avoided at all costs. But, as usual, Sophie had managed to unsettle him. To get beneath the skin of his bespoke self-confident image.
    Stenberg took a few deep breaths as he tried to pull himself together. It was only ten o’clock. Karolina wouldn’t be home before two. Plenty of time to go home, patch himselfup, then settle back on the sofa with a whiskey and do his best to forget this sordid little episode. He was pretty good at that. Forgetting, leaving things behind, and setting off toward new goals.
    He started the engine and slid the car out of its parking space. The pain in his left foot had turned into a dull throb. At the exit he stopped at the barrier. His pass card was in one of the inside pockets of his wallet, an anonymous white plastic card, obviously not issued in his name. He put the gearshift in neutral and opened the window. The Eco-Drive function instantly shut off the big engine and everything went silent. In the distance he could hear the garage’s ventilation system. A dull, ominous sound that made him feel badly ill at ease. The feeling came out of nowhere, and for a few seconds it took over his whole being and made his hands shake.
    He had to get out of there, right away!
    Stenberg touched his wallet to the card reader. The machine made a vague clicking sound. But