The Ice Child

Chapter Eighteen

Several months had passed since Laila was allowed to see Peter for the first time in so many years. She still remembered the feeling when he came into the room. He was so handsome, so like his father, but with her slender build.

She was also grateful to see Agneta at last. They had always been close, but it had been necessary for them to part ways. And her sister had given her the greatest gift anyone could receive. She had taken her son under her wing and given him refuge and a family. He had been safe with them, at least during the years when Laila had kept everything secret.

Now she no longer needed to keep quiet. It was so liberating. It would take a while, but eventually her story would be told. The Girl’s story too. Right now she didn’t dare believe that Peter was safe, but the police were searching for the Girl, and presumably she was too smart to try to go anywhere near him.

Laila had wondered whether she would feel anything for her daughter, the child who in spite of everything was her own flesh and blood. But no, the Girl had been a stranger right from the beginning. She had not been part of Laila or Vladek. Not the way Peter was.

Maybe Laila would even be released from prison now, if she could convince the authorities that her story was true. She didn’t know whether she was hoping for that or not. She had spent such a large part of her life here, that it no longer made any difference. The most important thing was that she and Peter could resume contact again, and that he could come to visit her once in a while. Someday he might even bring along his wife and children. That was enough to make her life worth living.

A discreet knock on the door roused her from her happy thoughts.

‘Come in,’ she called, with a smile on her lips.

The door opened, and Tina came into the room. For a moment she didn’t say a word.

‘What is it?’ Laila finally asked.

Tina was holding something in her hand, and when Laila saw what it was, her smile faded.

‘There’s a postcard for you,’ said Tina.

Laila’s hand shook uncontrollably as she took the card. There was no message, and the address was stamped in blue ink. She turned the card over. A matador stabbing a bull.

For several seconds Laila was silent. Then she opened her mouth and screamed.