Rebekka Franck Series Box Set vol 1-5

by Willow Rose

  The bundle was so light, so small she was afraid to break what was in it. Anna felt tears press from behind her eyes and tried hard to force them back, just as the baby opened his eyes and looked at her. In that instant Anna knew her life was really changed forever and would never be the same again. Tears rolled across her cheeks as she stroked the boy on the head. Never in her life had she ever seen anything like this boy; never in her life had she felt anything like what she felt at that instant. Looking into those very blue eyes of his changed everything.

  Arms or no arms, Anna was in love.

  3

  AUGUST 2012

  WHEN HENRIK FENGER OPENED his eyes he didn't remember where he was. He blinked a couple of times to focus better. The light in the bathroom felt very bright.

  The bathroom? What am I doing in the bathroom? Last night? What happened last night? There was someone in here. There was someone in the bathroom?

  Henrik felt suddenly anxious and turned his head to look around him. He realized he was sitting in the bathtub. What was he doing in the bathtub? Had he been sleeping in there? Why? Henrik felt suddenly so thirsty, like he hadn't had anything to drink for days. His tongue was dry and felt sticky inside his mouth. He was groggy, his thoughts clouded, and he could hardly focus. Suddenly, he realized he was very cold and looked down only to discover that his body was covered in ice, all the way up to his chest.

  Where the hell did all this ice come from? A bucket next to the bathtub gave him a clue. The ice had to come from the machine in the hallway outside. But why? Why would anyone sink him into ice? Henrik now remembered the needle the person had held in their hand and injected into his arm. It was still sore and there was a small mark from where it had gone through the skin. What had been in that needle? Henrik felt so groggy and had to fight to stay awake. He felt confused. It was so hard to figure out what was going on. Just moving his arm to pull it above the ice took a lot of work. It was just like the time when he had his appendix removed and he had to be put under anesthesia. The waking up was so hard. All he wanted was to go back to sleep. Getting back to reality felt like being punched in the face.

  Henrik groaned and tried to move his body underneath the ice, but it was difficult. You need to get up from this cold ice or you'll freeze to death. Move your body. Come on, Henrik. Just do it.

  Henrik blinked his eyes and looked up when he spotted something on the white wall in front of him. He blinked again to be able to focus better and soon he realized it was a note. It was taped to the wall. It wasn't hard for him to read it. In big letters it simply said:

  DON'T MOVE. CALL 112.

  Henrik blinked again trying hard to figure out what this was all about. Was it a dream? Some weird psychedelic nightmare? It had to be. It simply had to be. Had the person drugged him and that was why he was dreaming this strange dream?

  Henrik shook his head. It was hurting badly now.

  No, this is no dream. This is real. This is very real.

  Henrik turned his head and spotted a small table that had been placed next to the bathtub with his cellphone on top of it. Something felt weird, he thought to himself. Something was different when he tried to move, to turn his torso. The ice numbed it, but it still hurt. Henrik was struck by a strange feeling and reached back his hand to try and touch his back. He pressed his hand slowly and carefully through the ice.

  Something is really wrong here.

  Henrik didn't dare to touch it anymore. He pulled his hand back with a gasp. Carefully he reached for the phone and dialed the emergency number, 112.

  "What's your emergency?" the lady asked.

  Henrik felt his heart beat faster and had to focus in order to not lose consciousness. "I … I think something bad happened to me. Please send an ambulance."

  "What happened to you sir?"

  Henrik moaned. The pain in his back was getting worse by the second now. The anesthesia was wearing off and the ice didn't do much to help him anymore. The realization of what had happened to him was slowly sinking in and it hurt more than anything.

  "Sir? Are you still there? What's your emergency? Sir? Can you speak? Are you still there?"

  "Yes," he said with drops of sweat springing from his forehead, sweat from excruciating pain. "Yes. I'm here."

  "I'm sending an ambulance right away. What's happened?" the woman asked again.

  Henrik moaned heavily while seeing black spots in front of his eyes.

  "I … I think … someone removed something from inside of me."

  4

  AUGUST 2012

  "DO YOU LIKE IT?"

  Peter looked at me as he opened the gate to the driveway. In front of us rose the enormous white house. It was beautiful.

  "Love it," I answered. We walked towards the house with our bags. "Why is there a driveway if you can only get here by boat?" I asked.

  "The lake is not very deep on this side towards the land. Sometimes in the summer when the water level is low, you can drive here. You need an SUV, since it gets really muddy. I've done it a couple of times."

  "Yeah, we did it together, me and daddy when we were here last time," Julie said and ran ahead of us towards the main entrance of the house.

  "Oh you did, now did you?" I said, a little dissatisfied that I hadn't heard about this before.

  Peter led us to the courtyard. A broad set of stairs led to the front entrance, a massive old wooden door. It was stunning. Everything about this place was stunning. Magnificent, even. I had never been in a place like this before.

  Peter found the keys and opened the door for us. "Ladies first," he said with a smirk.

  Julie stormed inside and I followed her. If it was splendid from the outside it was nothing compared to what it was on the inside. It was simply breathtaking. The high ceilings that seemed endless, the marble floors, the paintings on the walls as big as Julie, the stairwell leading upstairs, the many hallways leading to unknown places. It was incredible.

  I looked at Peter. "You'd better show the way," I said. "I don't want to get lost in this massive house."

  Peter chuckled, then walked towards the stairs. We followed him. "Julie and I stayed in two rooms up here the last time. They were great, weren't they sweetheart?"

  Julie nodded eagerly.

  "How many rooms are there?" I asked.

  "Fifty-two without the servants’ quarters in the back."

  "You're kidding me, right?"

  Peter laughed. "Of course I am. It's only forty-eight if you don't count the servants’ quarters in the back."

  "Very funny."

  Peter laughed. "It's true. I'm not lying."

  "That's a lot of rooms. How old is it?" I asked.

  "It's very old. It was built by a bishop many years ago, in 1302. During the reformation, in 1536, it was taken over by the king who used it as a prison. It has been told that a famous Scottish Earl was put in this prison and went insane. He killed himself in here. They say that at night you can still hear the horse driven carriage that carried his body away, but I've never heard it. Later it became a mental institution for a short period from 1840 to1857. My great-grandfather bought it in 1901 when it had been empty for a couple of years. He completely restored it back to its old splendor when it used to be a Renaissance castle in the beginning." Peter walked down the hallway and stopped in front of a door. "This is Julie's room," he said. "This is where she slept the last time we were here."

  "Yay," Julie said and opened the door to her room. I peeked in. It looked like a nice big bed in there. The furniture was very old and dark. Julie threw her bag and then herself on the bouncy bed. I smiled. She seemed to feel so at home here.

  "Now you and I will be in the room right next to hers," Peter said.

  I followed him down the hallway. "You and I, huh? You really think we're ready for that?"

  Peter opened the door and showed me the most astonishing room. It was huge, almost the size of my dad's entire first floor. It had a big bathroom attached to it with a spa and, in the cent
er, was literally the biggest bed I had ever seen. It was all very old-fashioned but astoundingly beautiful.

  "Don't you think we are now?" he asked. "Don't you think we're ready to take this to the next level?"

  I took off my shoes and planted my feet in the thick carpet. Then I smiled. "I think we are." I walked closer, then leaned over and kissed him. "I really think we are."

  5

  JANUARY 1995

  VALDEMAR LOOKED UP AT Anna with his big blue eyes. Anna couldn't help crying, not because of the fact that he had no arms, no. She had already completely forgotten all about that and all she wanted was to take her baby home. No, she was crying because, at that moment, holding him in her arms at the hospital, she was happier than she had ever been in her life. Finally she felt complete, finally she felt like her life had a meaning, a purpose.

  She couldn't stop smiling and stroking him gently across his face, putting her finger on his small nose.

  The doctor kept talking about what their options were, how they would get help from the county to make their home handicap-friendly and help to take care of the baby in any way needed and that they could provide a therapist to help the family cope with this tragedy and burden that had come upon them.

  Anna had stopped listening a long time ago. How could anyone ever think that little boy could be a burden to her? How could he be anything but a blessing to them?

  "I'll go get the father now," the doctor said and left.

  Anna hardly noticed he was gone. She kept looking at her baby boy, Valdemar, who stared back at her with his wondrous eyes. Much to her surprise, he had stopped crying as soon as he was handed to her. And ever since she had held him in her arms, he had been smiling, which was really special and surprising, since Anna had read in her books preparing to become a mother, than newborns didn't smile until weeks after they were born.

  That was when Anna first realized that Valdemar was a very special child.

  "Anna!" Michael stormed into the room. He was pale and looked confused. "How are you?"

  She lifted her head and looked at him. His eyes were overwhelmed with fear and worry. "The doctor told me," he said.

  Anna smiled. She lifted the baby higher so he could better see him. Michael smiled insecurely. "Can I see?" he said.

  Anna nodded. Michael grabbed the blanket and unwrapped the boy's shoulders. He gasped. Then his facial expression changed drastically and he stepped backwards while shaking his head. "No," he said.

  "Michael," Anna said. "It will be okay. We'll figure it out together. Like we always do, remember?"

  But Michael didn't remember. He kept shaking his head, staring at the boy's missing arms with a strange expression to his face, which Anna didn't care for. She hurriedly re-covered the boy's shoulders with the blanket and pulled him close to her body again. Michael stared at her like he was appalled by her and the very fact that she was able to care for such a misshapen creature, like it made him feel disgusted by her.

  "Michael?" she said with a shiver to her voice. "It's going to be okay. He's still our boy. He's still the Valdemar we have been waiting for."

  Michael shook his head. "No. No. That is not my son."

  "Michael?" Anna was crying now. "How can you say such a thing? He's still your son and will always be."

  "No," Michael simply said, then turned around and walked away.

  Anna cried. Her entire body was shivering in anger and desperation. "Michael!" she cried out after him, and finally he turned to face her again. In his eyes she saw something she would never forget for the rest of her life.

  She saw blame. He was blaming her for what had happened. He was blaming her for giving birth to a boy without arms. She gasped and leaned back against the pillow. Never had she seen such resentment in her beloved's eyes. Never had she seen such anger and disappointment. It hurt in every bone of her body.

  "Michael?" she said.

  But he never answered.

  6

  AUGUST 2012

  "IT SEEMS THAT YOU'VE had your kidney removed."

  The doctor standing next to Henrik Fenger's bed looked like a pig, Henrik thought. He was big and fat and had almost pink skin. And then there was the nose. It somehow reminded Henrik of a pig with the big nostrils. He was repulsed by this person and even more by what he was now telling him.

  "My kidney?" he asked. "How the hell …? Henrik felt dizzy and had to close his eyes for a second.

  "It was very professionally done, so whoever did it must have tried something like this before."

  "Wha …? What? How? I want to know how this could have happened. I demand to know!" Henrik had to hold back his rage. Now that he had become clearer in his head, he felt nothing but anger for what had happened and he wanted those behind it to pay.

  "Well you were probably heavily sedated first. That's why you didn't feel anything. But I really feel you should discuss all this with the police when they get here."

  "But what about my kidney?"

  "You'll be fine with only one. Lots of people live perfect lives with just one kidney."

  "But where the hell is it now? Why would anyone want to take my kidney?" Henrik was snorting in furor now.

  The doctor shrugged. "I really feel you should talk to the police about the details. I don't know much about it."

  "Then get the fucking police here right now!" Henrik yelled.

  The doctor left and came back with a nurse who gave Henrik something to calm him down, the doctor said.

  Henrik protested. "I don't want to be calm. I'm angry. I want to see these people hung and tortured for what they've done …"

  "You really shouldn't get this agitated Mr. Fenger," the nurse said. "Your body can't cope with it."

  "Don't tell me what to do and what not to do. I am angry and I am entitled to be very, very angry!" Henrik rose from the bed and stormed towards the nurse with his hands towards her, grabbing her around the throat, screaming and yelling. Suddenly he felt dizzy once again and, shortly after, everything went black. The last thing he heard was the nurse scream.

  When Henrik opened his eyes again, he was strapped to the bed and could hardly move his hands. "I'm sorry, Mr. Fenger but we had to strap you down," the piggy doctor told him. "You attacked one of our nurses and we can't have that happening again."

  Henrik tried to pull his arms and legs loose, but couldn't. He groaned and yelled in anger. "How dare you? I'm the victim here!"

  "The police are here and ready to talk to you, when you're calm enough."

  Henrik moaned and fought with the straps.

  "I guess I can always tell them to come back later," the doctor continued.

  "No. No. Please don't. I'll stay calm," Henrik pleaded, then drew in a deep breath. "I'm calm now. I'm calm."

  "Good. That's better. Your body can't sustain those bursts of anger, Mr. Fenger. You have to try and stay calm."

  Henrik nodded. "I will. I promise."

  "Good. I'll let them know then," the doctor said and left him.

  As the minutes passed, Henrik fought to stay calm, but it was really hard. This whole situation left him with such an excruciating anger, one that he usually only showed towards his wife and kid at home behind closed doors. He never lost it at work or in front of strangers. But this … this … was just too much for him to be able to restrain himself.

  "Mr. Fenger?"

  Two officers entered his room. They looked like idiots. Just like all other police officers Henrik had ever encountered. Was the entire police force all morons? Henrik took a couple of deep breaths to stay calm. "Yes," he said, trying really hard to smile.

  The officer looked down at his notepad. He looked like it annoyed him to be there. As if Henrik's case was beneath him. It made Henrik even more furious.

  "We have been updated on your most unfortunate situation by Doctor Hansen …"

  "There is nothing unfortunate about my situation," Henrik said through gritted teeth.

  "Excuse me?"

  "What?"


  "You said something?"

  "Well, you used the word unfortunate and I didn't like that."

  "You didn't like my choice of words?"

  "No. My situation isn't unfortunate," Henrik said, trying really hard to restrain himself from exploding.

  "Then, what is it?" the officer asked.

  "It's a CRIME," Henrik yelled. "It's a fucking crime that someone has to pay big-time for."

  The officer nodded. "That's what I meant. We agree, then. This unfortunate crime has to be investigated, of course, and Officer Frandsen and myself, Officer Jansson, will be the ones to do just that."

  Henrik stared at the two buffoons in front of him. Christ, here I am in fucking pain, the worst trouble in my life and these are the guys I have to depend on? Freaking Starsky and Hutch?

  "So what is your take on this?" He asked.

  The two buffoons looked at each other. "Our take? I'm not sure I understand," officer Jansson said.

  "What do you make of this? Of what happened to me? Who did this and why?" Henrik said, trying hard not to yell again.

  Officer Jansson nodded. "Oh yes. Well we're probably talking about organ theft here."

  You think?

  "Okay. I kind of figured that out myself," Henrik said with a sigh. "Since someone stole one of my organs, that is. But what I meant is, do you have any idea who might have done this to me and, more importantly, do you have any idea how to find them and make them pay?"

  Officer Frandsen cleared his throat. Henrik looked at him expectantly, hoping for just a small glimpse of hope.

  "To be frank, we don't," he said. "As far as we know this is a first in this country. Organ theft is mostly seen in Eastern European and Asian countries."

  "So you have no idea who took my kidney?" Henrik said, flabbergasted.

  Both officers shook their heads. "I'm afraid we don't, no," one of them said. Henrik didn't care who.