Only when she placed her hands on the steering wheel did she see that they were bloody. She felt her palms stick to the leather of the steering wheel. But she paid no attention; she put the car in reverse and backed out of the garage a bit abruptly. She heard gravel scattering under the wheels.
They had a long journey ahead of them. She glanced at the back seats. Sam was sleeping wrapped in the blanket. Normally, he should have been wearing a seatbelt, but she didn’t have the heart to wake him. She would drive as carefully as she could. Instinctively, she eased off the gas pedal a little. The summer night had begun to brighten. The hours of darkness had already ended before they had barely begun. Nevertheless, this night seemed endless to her. Everything had changed. Fredrik’s brown eyes were fixed blankly on the ceiling, and she realized she could do nothing. She was forced to save herself and Sam. Not to think about the blood – nor about Fredrik.
There was only one place she could take refuge. After six hours, she was there. Fjelbäcka had begun to wake up. She parked the car next to the coast guard building and thought for a moment about how she would manage to take everything with her. Sam was still sleeping deeply. She took a pack of tissues from the car glove compartment and wiped her hands as best as she could. The blood was hard to remove. Then she took the suitcases out of the trunk and pulled them as fast as she could toward Bandholmen, where the boat was moored. She worried that Sam might wake up, but she had locked the car so he wouldn’t get out and fall into the water.
