A Nearly Normal Family(110)

“He didn’t stop,” Amina says. “I kept telling him to stop.”

Jansdotter drops her pen, but her fingers keep twirling as if she hasn’t noticed.

“He just kept going,” Amina says.

The prosecutor is gaping. Now it’s dawning on her. She opens her mouth several times, trying to say something, but she seems to keep drawing a blank and starting over.

“I told him I didn’t want to,” Amina says. “I screamed at him.”

“Why didn’t you mention this during the police interrogation?” the prosecutor asks.

The words come in starts.

“I—was—a virgin.”

Jansdotter falls silent.

“I tried to shove him away, but I couldn’t. He pushed my arms to the ground. I couldn’t … I struggled and clawed and screamed, but I couldn’t get away.”

I release Adam’s hand, then turn around and look at Alexandra again. It’s enough to drive away any lingering doubt. I am now sure that this is the right thing to do. We couldn’t have done it any other way. There is no justice anyway.

Amina has to fight for her voice to hold out. She takes a sip of water and clears her throat.

Then she looks straight at the presiding judge.

“Christopher Olsen raped me.”





102


In reality, it was an idiotic idea from the start. Stella’s attitude toward the church was overtly hostile. What business would she have at a confirmation camp?

“I think it would be good for her,” said Adam. “She might feel left out if she doesn’t go.”

“Amina’s not going either,” I pointed out.

“But she’s Muslim.”

“Her dad is Muslim. And Stella’s an atheist.”

I wish I had stood my ground. This terrible regret I have had to live with. Why did I let her go?

Adam had finally started loosening the reins and becoming gradually more permissive and sensible in his relationship with Stella, and I wasn’t eager to cause a setback. So despite my misgivings, I gave in and, when I saw the joy on Stella’s face, I thought I had made the right decision.

Later, when Adam called from camp and tried to explain what had happened, what that pig had done to our little girl … At first I couldn’t put it all together. I had just arrived on the evening flight from Stockholm.

“You’re at the confirmation camp? What are you doing there?”

Adam rambled something about responsibility and how the reason didn’t matter right now.

“Do you realize what has happened?” he shouted through the phone. “Stella was raped.”

My head was spinning. The phone trembled against my ear.

“You have to call the police. Take her to the hospital, Adam.”

His response was evasive.

“Adam! It’s crucial that she be examined by a doctor.”

“We’ll talk about it later. We’re on our way home now.”

I was sitting at the kitchen table when the car sped into the driveway. I ran out; my head was about to burst.

Stella landed in my embrace and I carried her into the house as if she were five years old again. She sat in the kitchen, paralyzed, her face devoid of emotion.

I cried and hammered my fists against Adam’s chest.

“How could this happen?”

“Calm down,” Adam said, holding my arms tight.

“Why didn’t you call the police? Why did you come home?”

He didn’t want to look at me.

“What were you doing there? Were you spying on Stella?”

“It’s my job.”

“Your job?” He hadn’t said a word about visiting the camp. “I’m calling the police.”

I pulled my phone from its case, but Adam grabbed it from me.

“Hold on! It’s not as simple as you think.”

“What do you mean, it’s not simple?”

He glanced at Stella and gestured at me to follow him into the hall. He lowered his voice.

“Stella went with Robin to the counselors’ cabin. It even seems like she initiated it.”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

“She initiated it?”

“Some of the other confirmands said that she was planning to seduce him.”

“Seduce? Can you hear yourself? She’s fifteen.”

“Of course. I’m not defending Robin.”

“Then what are you saying?”

He took my shoulders and gazed at me with sorrow in his eyes.

“I guarantee that he will never, ever get another job with the Church of Sweden.”

“But?”

“But moving forward with this … it will only hurt us. Hurt Stella.”

A void opened up inside me.

“We have to, Adam. We have to!”

He shook his head.

“Everyone will find out. People will judge her. She’ll have to live with this forever.”

My head was spinning. I gave a harsh cough, scared I might throw up. To some extent, I understood Adam’s point. I myself had defended men accused of rape. I myself had posed all those unpleasant questions to the victim, about clothing, alcohol, previous experience, and sexual preferences. In some cases, I really had doubted the victim’s account. In others, I had only been doing my job.