Tell Me You're Mine(63)

The sky is an enormous dome of black crystal. The stars shine like shards of crushed ice. A cold wind sweeps in from the ocean and our breath turns to smoke. We walk in silence, side by side, through the darkness. Kerstin keeps Alice between us, with a tight grip on her arm. The moonlight glitters on the blade. Not for a moment does she lower the knife, just keeps it pointed straight at my daughter’s throat. I can’t do anything. It’s too risky. I wonder how far Kerstin is prepared to go.

I can barely use my right hand. I have difficulty moving my fingers, and the pain will soon take over. It feels like the wound is on fire, and it radiates up toward my elbow and along the whole inside of my arm. Kerstin throws me suspicious looks, but I pretend not to notice them. Don’t know if it’s working, but I want her to think I’ve stopped fighting.

Doubtless Kerstin was hoping I’d know where she took Alice, and that I’d follow them to the Strandgården. But what’s going to happen now is impossible to know.

We arrive at the stone deer that sits next to the cliff. A full moon shines on the sea and the wind tears at the branches of the trees, at my hair and my clothes.

“This is a wonderful place,” Kerstin says. She sounds happy, as if we were out on a brisk evening walk and had found a beautiful view.

The stone deer stares out over the water. Kerstin pulls Alice down toward the ground, squats and strokes the animal’s back before getting up again. She points the knife toward the sea.

“She rests down there. My little girl.”

I put the lamp on the ground. Try to stretch my arm. The pain is worse now, and I can’t move my fingers anymore.

“How did she die?” I ask.

“She slept and slept and slept. She never woke up. Dad didn’t understand. He rowed her out there and sank her into the water. But I took back what was mine.” Kerstin looks at Alice, then at me. “She became mine. She became my Isabelle, who came back.”

“Alice has never been yours,” I say. “You took her from her stroller when she was sleeping.”

Kerstin grabs hold of Alice’s hair and pulls her up to her feet. Alice whimpers and clutches her head.

“And you’ve never been her mother,” Kerstin hisses. “She doesn’t want anything to do with you. She wants you to disappear and leave us alone.”

I move closer.

“We love each other,” Kerstin says, backing up with her arm around Alice, pushing the knife to her throat. “She’s my child. I’m her mother.”

“Then take the knife away. You’re hurting her.”

“You’re still just as full of yourself. You didn’t deserve her then, and you don’t deserve her now.”

They’re close to the edge now. Alice stares at me and the look in her eyes says it all. This is the end.





Isabelle



The knife scrapes my neck. I hold my breath as the razor-sharp blade presses against my larynx. I don’t want to die.

“There’s a reason for everything,” Kerstin whispers into my ear. “You and I have always been on our way here, Isabelle. We never left this place.” I try to pull free, but don’t have the strength.

Stella comes closer. She stretches out her unhurt hand and points to the knife.

“You’ve proven your strength to me. It’s enough now.”

Kerstin sounds disappointed. “You haven’t understood anything,” she replies. “Why aren’t you listening? Isabelle’s father made the same mistake. My own dad, too. And Hans. None of them listened.”

“Give me the knife.” Stella still holds her arm outstretched.

“If you want it, you’ll have to take it from me.”

I can see on Stella that she knows: it’s over now. I try to tell her I’m sorry for all this, but can’t get out a word. Kerstin’s grip tightens. She takes another step back. I glance to the side and see how far down it is to the water. One more step, and we’ll both be crushed on those rocks.

“We were happy!” she screams. “You should have let us be.”

Stella throws herself at us. She grabs hold of Kerstin’s hair and jerks her to the side. Kerstin loses her balance and lets go of me. I stumble away from the edge and collapse on the ground.

They hold on to each other, a still embrace. Kerstin has an arm around Stella’s back, Stella has both arms around Kerstin. A slow dance under the full moon.

Then Stella turns her face to me, her eyes widen, and she gasps.

Kerstin has buried the knife in Stella’s stomach. She pulls it up to land one more vicious stab, pulls back her arm again, but Stella breaks free. Kerstin loses her balance. She grasps at the air for something to hold on to.

Stella pushes her and she totters on the edge.

Kerstin holds out a hand toward her, but Stella does nothing. Just watches as she falls.

Kerstin’s scream stops when she lands on the rocks below. I crawl forward and look over the edge. She’s stretched out with her body in an unnatural position. The blood flows from her head, her eyes are wide open, and the water washes over her legs.

Stella sinks down next to me.

“How are you?” she asks. Her voice is no more than a whisper.

I lean against her without answering. Stella twitches and whimpers from pain.

I straighten up and look at her.

She tries to smile.





Stella



We stay there, looking out over the sea. The waves break against the rocks below where Kerstin lies.

I pushed her. I killed her. Let her fall without taking her outstretched hand.

Alice says she’s happy Kerstin is gone. She asks if that makes her a horrible person. I tell her it doesn’t.

My body has started to shake. I breathe in short, intense bursts, and my heart is racing. I’m terribly thirsty, wish there was something to drink.

Alice asks how badly I’m hurt. I open my coat to see. A black flower of blood has spread over my stomach and down onto my legs. She puts her hands to her mouth, and I see the shock in her face. We both know it’s bad. Then she pulls off her jacket and presses it to my stomach. She feels my brow, says I’m ice cold and have lost all color.

I hear the sirens approaching. See the blue lights shining in the dark. Alice asks me to hold on, says help is on its way.

I fall to the side. I lie on the ground looking out over the water as it glitters in the moonlight. Alice leans over me, and I want to tell her that this is the second time we’ve looked at the full moon together here. But I can’t move my mouth anymore. All that I want to say to my daughter. But no words will come.

Alice holds my face between her hands and looks into my eyes. She says something, but I can’t hear.

She puts her head against my shoulder, and I feel her sob. I wish I could comfort her.





Isabelle



The sun-dappled meadow is dotted with poppies and yellow buttercups. Cornflowers and flax and pink clover. Oxeye daisies and wild chervil. Everything is in bloom.

I walk through it slowly, running my fingertips along the high grass. The sun is on my back, a lazy wind in my face. The smell of newly cut hay. In the distance, I see the horizon lying like a blue ribbon.

I want to stay here forever.

“Alice.”

I turn around.

You’re sitting on a horse. The sun streams from behind your face and blinds me. I shade my eyes with my hand.

The sun is shining brighter and brighter. I squint but it doesn’t help. The sun is coming closer; it changes and spreads an icy cold instead of heat. That corrosive light obliterates everything.

I call after you. Shout your name as loud as I can, but you’re already gone. The sun is growing, burning into me.

I scream.

“Isabelle?” Another voice.

I can’t move my body. I try to close my eyes and turn my head away.

“Calm down, Isabelle,” a man says. “Can you see me? Do you know where you are?”

The man holds a flashlight in one hand, and he’s lifting my eyelids with the other. He’s wearing glasses and a white coat.

“My name is Björn Söderberg, and I’m a doctor here at Oskarshamns Hospital. This is Lotta, your nurse. How are you feeling?”

“Where is Stella?” I want to sit up, but something is hurting my hand. A needle sits there, connected by a tube to a clear bag of liquid. There’s another needle in the crook of my arm.

“Where is Stella?” I ask again. “How is she?”

“Who can we contact to tell that you’re here?” the doctor asks.

“How is she?”

“Let’s just focus on you for now, make sure you recover.” The doctor looks down at a few papers. “Maybe you have some . . .”

“Why won’t you answer me? I’ve asked several times since I got here, but nobody will tell me anything. What’s going on?”

“She was operated on during the night,” Lotta says.

“Is she gonna make it?”

“It’s too early to say anything,” the doctor says. “She hasn’t woken up yet.”

There’s something about his voice, how he avoids looking at me. It scares me.

“Will she make it?” I look at the nurse. She hesitates.

“She’s in critical condition,” she says. “She’s lost a lot of blood and her heart stopped several times.”

The doctor gives her a stern look, and she takes out a blood pressure cuff.

“We just have to check a few of your vitals . . .”