Unspoken

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 4

The perpetrator from the Medborgarplatsen attack was caught the next day as he lay sleeping in the corner of a garage in Skarholmen. That gave the media reports about the incident a new impetus.

That’s the way the newsroom operated-the hottest story came first, and everything else had to wait. Something that was of intense interest one day could be completely forgotten the next. The list of priorities was constantly being revised at the morning meetings, during the day, and at the onset of each new event. The content of the workday was continuously being changed, renewed, and reversed to take in new points of view. One thing was certain-the job was seldom monotonous.

For that reason, the entire day had passed before Johan could think about Emma. But when he reached home, she once again dominated his thoughts. He called her even though he wasn’t supposed to. She sounded tired.

“How are things going?”

“Better. I picked up the kids from school today.”

“That’s great.”

“Yes.”

Silence. Johan felt uneasiness settling in his stomach.

“Have you talked to Olle?”

“I’m at the house right now. He’s reading a story to the children.”

“What are you doing there? Have you moved back in?”

“No, but we have to be able to spend time together. You do understand that, don’t you?”

She sounded annoyed, and she was speaking in a low voice, as if afraid that someone might hear.

“So he’s not mad anymore?”

“Of course he’s mad, but he has calmed down enough that we can talk, which means a lot to me. But I don’t want to risk causing any more trouble by talking to you right now. Bye!”

Johan stared at the phone in bewilderment. At the same time the freezing temperature outdoors swiftly moved inside and took up lodging in his guts. All of a sudden she was giving priority to Olle again. She sounded as if he didn’t mean shit to her, and that threat sapped him of all energy. He couldn’t bear to lose her again.