Chapter 27
Olivia is lying in bed with the covers pulled over her head. She has just spoken to her dad, but as usual he just made vague noises, as if he didn’t really know what to say.
She is so lost without her mom, completely helpless. She almost regrets calling her dad to tell him about Filippa. She doesn’t want to worry him even more, and he can’t really do anything anyway.
Just like three years ago.
Olivia has never longed for her mother as much as she does right now. Fuck cancer, it says on the little bracelet with plastic letters that she always wears on her left wrist.
Her thoughts turn to Aron and Jenny, Filippa’s parents. They must be devastated. She ought to call them, but she can’t do it, can’t find the strength to cope with their grief when she herself is so bereft.
There is a gentle tap on the door of the cabin.
Reluctantly Olivia gets up, wraps the quilt around her, and shuffles into the hallway. Emil is standing there—he isn’t wearing a jacket, and is shivering after walking the short distance from the house.
“Can I come in?”
He is so tall compared with Olivia, especially when she is barefoot.
“Of course.” She leads the way to the seating area by the window and sinks down in one corner of the leather sofa, still with the quilt wrapped around her.
“How are you feeling?” Emil asks, taking the armchair opposite.
He is three years older than Olivia, and one of her best male friends in Uppsala.
He is calm and thoughtful, whereas she is quick and spontaneous.
She has often thought that he is a good listener—for a guy.
When they started the economics program back in the fall, they ended up in the same team, the recce group as it is known, along with Pontus, Amir, and William. That was how they became friends.
“Two police officers just called by,” Emil goes on. “They repeated that we have to stay here for a few more days. We’re not allowed to go home until the forensic examination has taken place.”
He is clearly upset, speaking more quickly than usual, his voice slightly more shrill. Olivia sees her own despair reflected in his eyes.
“You mean the autopsy?” she asks, wanting to make sure she understands.
The thought of them cutting open Filippa’s body makes her shudder. Not long ago Filippa was standing in the bathroom, brushing her hair. Soon she will be lying naked on a slab, sliced open while strangers’ hands examine her.
“Can they do that?” she whispers. “Force us to stay?”
Emil runs his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. “I think so.”
Olivia has no idea about the law, she doesn’t know what the police can and can’t do. “I want to get away from here.” She hates the thought of having to remain in ?re.
“Me too, but I guess we have to do as they say.”
There are lines of tension around Emil’s mouth, as if he too is struggling not to cry. Twilight is falling outside, Olivia can see that the chairlift has closed for the day. Over by the Hermelinen lift, a long line has formed as people wait to make their way home.
“What do you think happened to Filippa?” she says hesitantly. “Could she have been so out of it that she went outside and fell asleep in the snow?”
Emil clasps his fingers together; they are long and slender like the rest of his body.
“I don’t know,” he replies, his expression troubled. “I’d gone to bed.”
Olivia has the feeling that Emil doesn’t want to talk about it. Maybe that’s his way of dealing with this terrible thing. She, on the other hand, can’t let it go; it’s like picking at a scab you know you shouldn’t touch.
She will go crazy if she can’t talk about Filippa, why she is no longer alive.
“What if she had an argument with someone and it all went wrong?”
Emil gives her a searching look. “Like who?”
Olivia has been wondering all afternoon. Pontus claims he fell asleep in the living room while Filippa was there, but after William had gone to his room. Amir claims that Filippa was still sitting on the sofa when he went to bed.
But what if that isn’t true?
What if Amir and Filippa started to quarrel, and he’s lying about it?
Olivia remembers waking up alone in the cabin. She assumed Filippa had spent the night with Amir, because he’d been stuck to her like a leech all evening.
Would he have lost interest, just like that?
Olivia finds it hard to believe. She doesn’t trust Amir.
He’s a social climber who doesn’t hesitate to use others in order to get where he wants to be.
That’s why he likes hanging out with William and his rich friends.
He has big plans for his life, and he thinks his networking will give him access to the high-flying career he wants—access that his own background cannot offer.
Who else could be behind Filippa’s death?
William would never be interested in her, and Emil was already in bed. Pontus was drunk and had fallen asleep.
“What do you think about Amir?” she says quietly. “Could he have done something to Filippa?”