“Mom was nice to me today. I think my new style is working,” I say.
Nana gestures for me to sit. “Hope is important.”
I pull my chair in closer to the table. “Yes, and investing is important. How do you feel about me investing in an apartment in Porto? Buying one?”
Nana doesn’t hesitate. “Wonderful.”
“Why?”
“So we can stay there when we go in August. Taste port wine on the balcony.” She winks.
I laugh. “I have that exact image in mind.” My heart is racing as I retrieve the envelope Erica sent me. I rip it open and pull out the prospectus. The building on the cover is a square one beautifully decorated in light blue tiles. “I think it’s one of these.” I point to a large balcony stretching around the top floor. Opening the folder, I turn the pages until I reach a handwritten headline: Amalie’s apartment.
“It’s huge.” The words fly out of my mouth. For only two-hundred-thousand kroner, I imagined it to be a tiny apartment about thirty square meters, but this has to be around one hundred.
Nana sits back in her chair. “It pleases me to see this amount of excitement in you again,” she chuckles.
I stutter the words. “I love it.” I flip through the folder and find the contract on the last page. Erica has already filled it out for me. All I have to do is sign. “Do you have a pen?”
Nana points to the library, and I limp in to get it. When I return, she has the contract in her hands, deep in thought. “Did William come around to the idea?”
I slouch down in the kitchen chair. “No. How’s your health? Ready for August?”
Nana beams at me through her large round glasses. “I walk the stairs in my house every day, up and down, up and down. It is too slippery outside, you see. My bones are too fragile from the pills I must take. The downside of surviving cancer, then getting through radiation is that the pills you take afterward ruin your body instead. You see, there are risks in everything we do. For me, I cannot risk breaking anything that would keep me from traveling to Porto with you.”
“Good. I can’t wait to go with you. Do you speak any Portuguese?”
She shakes her head. “We can learn together.”
“I’m already learning. I use this app…” I show her on my phone. “It teaches me a few new things every day.”
I download it on her phone too, but I’m pretty sure she won’t open it unless I force her.
“I might buy a book instead,” Nana says, and tucks her phone away.
We finish our dinner before I head home to show William the apartment. I can’t keep it a secret any longer, it feels like I’m betraying him.
He deserves to know.
He waits in the kitchen when I get in, worry in his eyes.
“You should invest. The only risk this project has is not finishing on time. The builder and owner have more than enough money to see this through, so Erica chose well for you.”
What?
“You checked it out?”
“I called Erica at work. Couldn’t let you make any mistakes with that much money.”
Our sex life might be terrible, but at that moment, I love him. “Thank you. The envelope I received from her had the contract ready to sign.” I hand it to him.
“It’s a good deal. Sign it and send it to Erica right away. Don’t want anyone to beat you to it.”
I sign, and then text her a photo.
She responds immediately: “Great decision. Congratulations. I’ll remind Sonia to contact you regarding décor, again. *Erica*”
I stare at the phone, not knowing what to do. A content hmm escapes me. “I bought an apartment in Porto,” I say.
William lifts an eyebrow. “Yes, you did.”
Wow.
The following day, to relieve my feet, I wear a pair of pants and ballerina shoes to work. No smile from Mom. I wear my beige skirt the next day and receive a smile. So pants are out, skirts are in.
Two and a half months later, nothing has changed besides Mom allowing me to bring her a cup of espresso in the morning.
The day before my birthday, when my shift ends, I lose it. The pain and heartache from trying so hard to get Mom back is unbearable. All I do is spin in a cycle of hope and despair.
Josefine finds me in the bathroom stall crying. “Can I do anything to help?”
I walk out, wipe my tears and straighten up. “I wish, but I think Mom’s the only one who can help, and she refuses.”
When I go back out into the restaurant, Mom calls for me as my shift ends. “Please bring me my espresso before you go.”
I prepare it for her while gritting my teeth together and controlling my desire to throw it in her face to wake her up, force her back to herself.
You don’t drink coffee. My mother only drinks peppermint tea.
When she adds sugar to it, I can’t contain myself and grab her arm. “Why can’t you remember me? Huh? I am your daughter. You love me! Why won’t you at least try?”
Mom stares at me. The intensity in her eyes makes me step back. I’ve seen that look before. In Dad’s eyes, right before he attacked us.
She clears her throat. “All I remember is not wanting to have children. So why would I want to remember you? I don’t.”
A chill runs through me. “Then why did you have me?”
“I have no idea.” She pulls her arm out of my grip. “Have you ever considered how uncomfortable this is for me? To have a stranger constantly ogling me, nagging me to remember? I get it! I can’t fire you. Mr. Jensen has made that quite clear by now. But, please, leave me alone, will you!”
I can’t breathe. “So you don’t want it to be true.”
Mom nods, and I run out. My body shakes all the way home. William’s not home, but his car sits in the driveway, and I need to get away from here.
What more can I do?
I drive to Skar’s Auto to get away, hoping it’s demolished to the ground.
Closing in on what used to be the dirt road going up to the dealership from the main road, the whole lot lights up before me with newly-installed masts for the worksite. I park the car on the side of the main road to get a closer look. Gone is the glass cage and the grass William and I put down. A gigantic hole in the ground replaces the dirt road and car lot, possibly preparing to become an underground parking garage. Three excavators line the trench where the trail used to go up to the forest and Dad’s shed and toilet.
I walk between the excavators and the steep edge of the trench.
How on earth did they park those here? It’s barely enough room for me to move without fear of falling in.
I keep as close to the machines as possible until I reach a section where diggers have removed previous soil that sloped down from the shed to the shop. Replacing the old forest growth is a new wall of stone stripped out of the earth, scratched from digging claws. Curious to see the construction site from above, I try to find a place to climb up, but it’s too steep, and the cold stone makes it impossible to get any grip as it stings my skin.
I brush my hands off and turn to walk back down to the car when another car parks in front of William’s Mercedes. Its headlights are blocking my view of the driver getting out, and I squint towards the shadow of a man walking towards me. He doesn’t say anything but heads straight for me. My adrenaline rises, and I gasp when I see his face. I back up and crash into the cold stone behind me
“Dad?”
STRANGLED
I pull my phone out of my coat, but he knocks it out of my hands. “Hello, daughter.”
Oh no!
I walk away from the edge of the gigantic hole in the ground toward the excavator. I don’t want to risk Dad throwing me in. There’s no one around, no reason to scream. But I do anyway. “HEEELP!”
The only way to get away from here is past Dad.
Can I make it?
I glance at the cars and conclude that if I can only get to my car before him, I can lock myself in and drive away. He’s stronger than
me, but I have to try.
I leap to the side to try to outsmart him, but he jumps forward and grabs my arm. His fingers dig into my skin.
I pull on my arm to get free, but his grip is too tight. “Heeeelp!”
“Shut up.”
He drags me with him back to the ditch and points into its darkness. “You sold my dealership?”
Balancing on the edge of the trench, the bottom is too far down to see the ground below in the shadows. It’s like a gigantic graveyard, and I fight to keep back. If he kills me here, my body might never be found. “Let me go!”
“Calm down!” He throws me back, and I crash into the stone wall.
I spin around and try to climb but it’s no use, my fingers slip, scraping my palms before I can even put my weight down. I turn back to Dad, who’s glaring at me with a grin spread across his face.
“With such a big project as this looks to be, you must have made quite the deal. However did you manage that?”
Shit. Does he know about the money I made too?
I panic thinking about what he’ll do to me now that I’ve spent it all, not just here but in Porto which must be a slap in the face. I have to change the subject.
“How did you find me?”
He shrugs. “I got lucky. A little bird told me about changes going on at my dealership, so I drove to have a look and here you are. It’s like a sign from the universe, don’t you think?”
I frantically shake my head. “No.” I need an excuse because this won’t end well for me. “William said to meet me here so he’ll arrive any minute.”
Dad turns around, and I take my chance to run past him.
“Not so fast.” He laughs while knocking me to the freezing ground. Cold rocks cut into my palms. “That’s his car you’re driving. Is he walking?”
“We have another car.” I’m a terrible liar. I can tell Dad sees right through me.
“I’m looking forward to meeting him again. Regarding my letter to Mr. Jensen, I was angry, I didn’t mean that. You’re my daughter, and I love you.”
What the hell?
His voice has turned into silk.
He’s up to something.
“William will be here any minute,” I say as convincingly as I’m able to. My voice is shaking.
Walking towards me, he reaches out his arm for me as I try to get up.
I slap it away. “Stay away from me!”
First he tries to kill me, then he wants to help me up to finish the job?
I don’t think so.
He lowers his hand, but doesn’t move and is now blocking my escape completely. “Your mother…” He pauses as if contemplating whether to continue. When he does, his voice is back to normal, hard, demanding. “Before you and your pathetic whore of a friend interrupted us, your mother was asking me some strange questions. It was as though she didn’t know who I was. Do you know anything about that?”
He doesn’t know about her memory loss. I scream as loud as I can hoping someone might hear it. “Stay away from Mom!”
“Answer me!”
“No!” I try to stand, but he pushes me back down to the ground.
“Don’t you get it? I’m only trying to help you. That’s why I registered the dealership in your name. It was supposed to be a success. Make us all rich.”
My voice breaks while I shriek. “Help me? You put me in the hospital! How could you do that to me? To Mom?”
Dad takes a few steps back. “I messed up, Amalie. It was all a big mistake.”
“Let me go.” I stagger to my feet, my breathing heavy.
He laughs. “Sure. I’ll let you run off to your beloved William, and your perfect life, in your perfect house with your perfect Mercedes.” Dad flings his arms out, pointing at the trench behind him. “What did they pay you?”
This is my chance.
If I can only get him a few steps closer to the edge, I’ll push him in, run to the car, and get help. Call the police, finally get him arrested. Chances are the fall will kill him, but there’s no doubt in my mind. It’s his life or mine. He’s still laughing when I answer. “It’s a big lot. Huge opportunities you didn’t see.”
I leap forward and push him with all the force I have, but he doesn’t move. Before I can flinch, he has his hand around my throat, my feet dangling on the ground while he’s dragging me with him to the edge. My eyes fill with tears, and the hatred in his eyes is like the night he beat us. Black. Soulless. Predatory.
“Don’t you dare! I tried everything humanly possible with this place,” he says.
I kick and crawl to get out of his grip. We’re at the edge.
No, no, no.
I try to scream again, but with his hand tightening around my throat, I can’t get enough air to make the sound. Instead, it comes out as a whimper. “Don’t kill me!”
He laughs, the only way he knows how, as if I’m worthless. But I’m not here to please him anymore, and I’m not the same girl he once knew.
I wrap my legs around his stomach and tighten the hold. “If I fall, you fall with me,” I say. He stares at me, his laughter simmers down, and he steps back from the edge. He lets go, and I crawl back, the frozen dirt ripping my fingers as I’m desperate to get away. The sound of his feet follows me. I try to scream again, but there’s no sound.
Like a cat playing with its prey, he saunters behind me. “Oh, shut up. How did you do this? Nobody wanted this land. What did you do?”
A few meters ahead, behind the excavator blocking my escape over to the neighboring field, a shovel sticks out of the snow. If I can only reach that, I can catch him off guard. I’ll hit him, get away. I speed up, focus on the shovel, blocking out the pain while handprints of blood form underneath me. I turn around to keep his eyes on me while I hide my intention and back up towards the shovel. My right hand touches the handle, and I grab on to it with stiff frozen fingers. I glare at Dad, knowing I’ll need to say something to distract him. “I sold the forest.”
“What?” He turns and gazes up at the stone wall to where the shed once stood overlooking the fjord.
With all my force, I pull on the shovel to swing it at his head, but it doesn’t budge. It’s frozen to the ground, it’s stuck.
Dad snarls as he leans down over me. “I want my money!”
I kick him between the legs, but he sees it coming and uses his right knee as a shield. His fingers dig into my throat again. I jerk to get out of his grip, trying to scream, but even my whimper is silenced. I claw at his face, but with no oxygen, it’s like slow motion. He pushes my arms under his knees, crushing them down on the freezing surface.
I stare at him, fading away.
I don’t want to die.
Mom. I want her here, to see her loving smile one last time. That’s all I want. Is this the universe telling me I have nothing left to live for?
Light fills the air surrounding Dad, lighting up his clenched jaw and the rapid pulse in his neck. A voice shouts. “Hey, this is private property, you can’t be here, man.”
My throat is free, and I gasp for air. Dad coughs out loud, apparently trying to cover the sound to avoid any attention the man might give me if he hears my struggle to breathe. I open my mouth to scream for help, but it’s useless. Nothing but a high-frequency beep escapes. The ground around me is spinning.
Dad’s silky sales voice rings out. “I had to see the excavators. Amazing what you guys are doing here.” Dad darts away from me and saunters over to the man when he’s sure I’m out of sight. I tilt my head to the side. Through the excavator's belt I see his shadow clap the man on his back, then the two men walk away together. Every sound is clear, the chatter, Dad’s false fascination with diggers, the thump of the car doors closing and eight tires rolling away.
Pushing myself upright, I crawl away from the spot where Dad left me in case he returns to finish me off. I stumble to my feet and move as fast as I can towards the main road. The crawling and desperation to get away from Dad have reopened the wounds on my feet, an
d my toes are soaked in blood. Limping to the car, I yank the door open, jump in, lock the doors, and drive off to the gas station down the street.
Storming in, I scream. “Call the police!”
The old man behind the counter gapes at my bloody hands and my ruffled clothes before handing me a phone. I call the police and tell them what happened.
“Did you see his license plate?”
I groan. “No, it was too dark, I couldn’t even see the make of his car. I was too busy running away.”
When the police arrive, they take my statement, and I drive home. Again, Dad is roaming around free.
William storms at me when I walk in the door. “What on earth happened to you? I’ve been calling your cell phone all evening.”
A lump in my throat grows faster than I can get rid of, my eyes fill up, and I can’t hold back the tears. I hold my hands out for William to see. “Dad came to the Skar’s Auto plot.”
“What were you doing there?”
“I wanted to get away. Mom doesn’t want me,” I say, not able to hold it together anymore. I bawl.
William supports me into the living room, and I slouch down on the sofa. He pulls my boots off, revealing blood-soaked socks. I scream out into the room.
“What did he do to you this time? How difficult can it be to catch this maniac? He’s tried to kill you twice now.”
My feet are like a professional ballet dancers. They’re butchered. “He’ll come for me again. He wanted money.”
“I don’t like this.” William walks into the kitchen. The tap is running, and when he returns, he has a wet cloth in his hand. He pulls my feet up in his lap and spreads it across them. “Promise me you won’t go anywhere alone until they arrest him, please.”
“I’ll try,” I say.
He scowls at me, dissatisfied with my response. “Why don’t you take a bath and go to bed. I’ll bring you your dinner. Tomorrow is your birthday after all.” He forces a grin, hoping I’ll copy it. I can’t.
“Please don’t do anything tomorrow. No party, no surprises. I can’t put on a happy face,” I say, pleading.
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