Silver Tears(71)

Ylva’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean?”

“I should start by saying that Julienne is alive. She’s living safe and sound in Italy with my mom.”

Ylva’s jaw dropped.

“So it’s true what she said, that policewoman who came to talk to me? I sent her packing and said she was crazy.”

“Yes, Yvonne Ingvarsson is right. I framed Jack for a murder that never happened. It was never about me, or my ego because he left me, or because Jack denied me money that I was entitled to. You know the two of us—you know that I was there and helped to build what would become Compare.”

Faye stroked her chin. She found it hard to say the words aloud.

“It was all about some photos I found of Julienne. Jack had taken highly detailed, nude pictures of her. She was completely at his mercy. He’s a sick man, Ylva. I realized I had to protect Julienne from him.”

Faye stared down at the floor. She struggled to summon the words.



Ylva stared at her, her face white.

“Thank God Julienne is alive,” she whispered. “But what she went through at the hands of Jack is dreadful. What he put her through.”

Faye blinked away the tears. Her voice was stronger now.

“You have a daughter with Jack too. And for as long as Jack is alive, Nora will be in serious danger. Other children will be, too. He’s a pedophile. I need your help. As a friend, as a woman. Because there are some things that the justice system doesn’t look kindly upon, even if the politicians always claim it does.”

“What do you need help with?”

Faye contemplated Ylva. She had put her life in her hands. If Ylva betrayed her confidence, then Faye would end up in prison. She would be one of the most hated women in Sweden. Which was strange, given that all she had done was act the way any responsible mother would have. Society hadn’t been capable of protecting her—it never had been. Not when she had been raped and assaulted at home as a young girl. Not when she had been conned out of the money from the company she had created. Not when she was chucked out like an old rag because her husband had met someone new.

She trusted Ylva precisely because she was a woman, because she could understand that vulnerability and powerlessness. Although they might never have faced it, every single woman could feel that emotion. And she trusted Ylva because she too knew Jack. She had seen the monster behind the mask. And she too had loved him once.

“Jack has to be eliminated if our kids are going to be safe. And Henrik is going to pay royally for trying to take away something that belongs to me.”

Ylva looked at her hands, which were clasped on her lap. She didn’t reply. They were interrupted by a cry from the next room.

Ylva stood up hastily.

“Go. See to her,” said Faye.

Ylva nodded and went into the room next door. A few minutes later she returned with Nora in her arms, her sleepy face red and bloated, her hair tousled. When she caught sight of Faye she burst into a smile that showed her tiny milk teeth. Ylva kissed her head. She looked at Faye with tears in her eyes. Then she nodded.



“I’m in. And I’m guessing it’s time for plan B?”

“It’s definitely time for plan B. And I’ve also got an idea for Alice.”

“What?” said Ylva curiously, cradling Nora in her arms.

Nora shut her eyes and fell asleep. Faye said nothing—she merely got out her phone with a smile. When Alice picked up, Faye could hear the sound of traffic and laughter. She must be having a drink out somewhere.

“Hasn’t Sten Stolpe always liked you?” said Faye.

“Liked?” Alice chortled. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“Would you be up for contacting him?”

“Sure, no problem. What did you have in mind?”

Faye explained while Ylva cradled her sleeping daughter, her lips forming a grim smile as she listened.





FJ?LLBACKA—THEN

As the weather changed and the nights closed in and grew cooler, it was time for me to return to school.

I was starting seventh grade, and tradition dictated that a big party was held, where all the local youths gathered in the woods the weekend before the schools went back. High schoolers were drinking, listening to music, sneaking off to fool around, fighting, and hurling into bushes.

I went and sat alone at a slight distance, mostly because I had nothing else to do. Sebastian was there. He’d achieved some sort of celebrity status, thanks to having been on TV, in the papers, and on the radio all summer talking about how great his friends had been.

I usually never went to parties. I didn’t want to be there. But I had to make sure that no one asked, no one wondered, no one knew. I felt no regret at what I had done, just anxiety that I would be found out. I wanted to hear what people were saying—I wanted to hear what gossip was going around Fj?llbacka. I needed to be among my peers to make sure I was safe. And I wanted to keep an eye on Sebastian.

When he caught sight of me his eyes flashed. He came staggering toward me. Clearly drunk. He stumbled across the rocks, almost fell, but managed to keep upright.

“What the fuck are you doing here, you whore?” he hissed, sitting down next to me.



He stank of booze and vomit.

I didn’t reply. The balance of power between us had changed. Now it was only when he was drunk that he dared treat me like this. Otherwise he seemed almost scared of me. Just the way I wanted.