by Rose, Willow
She must have felt him staring at her because she turned her head and looked him in the eyes with that tough look that he later came to love and fear so much.
"What are you staring at, rich boy?" she asked.
Mads had blushed, but couldn't stop looking at her. Her face was so fair and delicate, the lips like small red cherries and her eyes were sparkling with anger and hatred for the world. It was enthralling.
"You," he simply answered.
She smoked her cigarette while looking at him and scrutinizing him. She frightened and captivated him at the same time. It was overpowering.
"Well, stop," she said, blowing out smoke through her nose. "It's freaking me out. If you want something, just say it, rich boy."
"Can I have a cigarette?" he asked with a shivering voice.
She looked up at him again, looking at him like she was about to burst into laughter. He was afraid she might be able to tell from his face that he had never smoked a cigarette in his life.
"Sure," she said. "Here, catch." She threw the package of cigarettes at him and he caught it mid-air. She looked impressed. He took one out and squatted next to her so she could light it with her lighter. He drew in a deep breath and swallowed a cough. He could feel how his face was turning red.
"It's okay to cough," she said with a grin.
Mads had coughed so badly it sounded like he would hack up a lung.
"First time, huh?" she asked.
He chuckled and smoked again. "Yeah. Pretty pathetic, huh?"
"I can think of worse things," she said. "Say, do you like to have some fun?"
His face lit up in a grin. "What did you have in mind?"
Mads was pulled out of his daydream as the door once again was opened to his room at the hospital. He listened carefully to the steps approaching, thinking he would be able to tell if it was the woman again. But it wasn't. And it wasn't one person who entered…it sounded like two. They were talking to each other as they approached the bed. Mads felt they were really close now and he recognized one of the voices. The female one. She had been there before.
"I'll check the left leg if you take the right," she said. "It might be just a small stab-wound."
I'm here. I'm awake. Please see me. Please see me moving my finger!
Mads was screaming helplessly inside of his own mind while desperately trying to move his pinky.
Please see it. Please see my finger! I'm alive. I'm not dead!
"Do you see anything?" the female voice asked.
"There are a lot of scratches and bruises, but they look like they're from the accident," a male voice answered.
I'm moving my finger. I'm moving it now. Can't you see it?
"Yeah, I know. What we're looking for should be deeper if he was stabbed with something." The woman sighed deeply. "Maybe we should ask one of the doctors. Maybe they noticed one of the wounds looked different than what you normally get from being hit by a car?"
"Wait a minute," the male voice said.
Mads felt how his gown was lifted higher up and someone touched his leg. Oh how badly he wanted them to realize he felt everything and heard it all.
"What?" the female voice asked.
Mads heard her move to the other side of his bed.
"This here looks strange. Here on his thigh."
"Yeah. It looks like when a nurse tries to find a vein in your arm but misses and you get a big bruise. It looks like an ordinary bruise, but you can see where the needle tried to penetrate the skin. Maybe a really bad nurse had trouble here at the hospital?"
"Wouldn't they usually use an arm?"
"Maybe they couldn't find any more veins? I don't know; I'm not a nurse," the woman said.
"Neither was this person," the man said. "Just look at it. It looks terrible. There is a wound where the needle went through."
"Yeah. It looks like it was bleeding when it was done," the woman said. "Look at the dried-up blood."
"Could that be it?" the male said. "Could that be what they were talking about? You know that Mads was limping when he stormed outside."
"I don't know. Stephen Pars said it was just a few drops of blood, so I guess it could have been."
Mads was laughing with delight inside his head. Finally, someone was making progress. Finally, someone was figuring out what had happened to him.
Yes! Yes! Yes! He yelled with all his strength. Yes she tried to inject something into my thigh. Yes, she did it. Please find her, before I die. Please find her!
"Let's go talk to the doctor," the female voice said.
Mads heard steps, then one of them stopped. "What was that?" the female voice said.
"What was what?" the man asked.
Had they heard him? Had they heard him scream?
"I turned to look at him and I could have sworn that…I…It looked exactly like he was moving the tip of his pinky."
She saw that? She saw it? Yes, yes yes. I'm moving my pinky. Yes, she saw it. Yes, I'm alive, hello? I'm in here? I'm trapped in here! Call the doctor and let them know.
"I didn't see anything," the man said. "Maybe it was a spasm or something."
"Yeah you're probably right. I just can't escape the feeling that…"
"That what?" the man asked.
"I don't know what it is…I just feel like…like he can hear us or something."
I can hear you. I hear everything.
The man chuckled. "That's silly."
"I know. Let's go find the doctor and ask him about the bruise on his thigh."
No. No. Don't go. Don't leave me in this darkness. You saw it. You saw me move my finger. You know I'm alive! Don't leave me!
But the room had already gone as silent as the grave Mads feared so desperately that he’d end up in.
No! Come back!
29
April 2014
MORTEN AND I FOUND Doctor Faaborg in the hallway and he showed us into his office. I had spoken to him on several occasions while worrying about Mads Schou dying and making my daughter a murderer. He was a very nice man in his mid-fifties.
"Now Emma, what can I do for you?" he asked. "Have they located your daughter yet?"
"Not yet, doctor. We're working on it."
"I'm sorry there wasn't more I could do to save Mads Schou…for all who have been involved in this tragedy."
"I'm sure you did all you could," I said, thinking about what I had seen in that room. I couldn't escape the thought that Mads had moved the tip of his pinky. What did it mean? Could he be alive? Could he be trying to signal us?
Come on, Emma. Get real. That kind of stuff only happens in movies. You're being silly.
"So how can I help you today?" the doctor asked, as he looked at his watch. I knew he was a busy man and I had to hurry up.
"We were just wondering about a bruise on Mads Schou's thigh," I said.
"Yes, what about it?" the doctor asked.
"It looks like he had some sort of injection or something?"
The doctor frowned. "In the thigh? I don't think so. I see no reason why a nurse would do that in his thigh."
"He’s not diabetic or something, is he?" I asked, thinking briefly about Mrs. Alonzo, the woman onboard the cruise ship who fainted because she forgot to eat in worry about her son.
"No. He is not." The doctor tapped on his keyboard quickly, then looked back at us. "I have the report here and it does say he has a bruise on the right thigh, but according to this, it was caused by the accident. I have no reason to believe that it’s not."
"Could you take a look at it?" I asked. "I know you're busy and everything, but it would be a big help to us if you did this."
Doctor Faaborg looked at me and smiled. I knew he liked me. He loved my books and had read all of them, he had told me on several occasions.
"I can send you a signed copy of my book?" I said.
"Now, Emma Frost," he said chuckling. "That's bribing. But okay. I'll do this for you and you could choose to give me the book afterwards as a present."
"Sounds perfect."
We got up from his office chairs and followed doctor Faaborg back to Mads' room. I hated walking through that door. It constantly reminded me that somewhere out there Maya was feeling awful and scared to death about what had happened. I loathed myself for ever having told her to hang up the phone, but I knew there was nothing else I could have done. I just couldn't escape the thought that maybe if I had stayed with her, then she would never have disappeared. But it was so easy to blame yourself in hindsight.
"Let me show you where it is," I said, as we walked to Mads' lifeless body. I hated the sound of all the monitors and pumps keeping him alive. There was just something about this whole thing that felt really bad to me. Maybe it was just being face to face with death like this, face to face with the fact that life was so short, so fragile.
I pulled the covers off of him again and pulled his gown up to show the bruise. The doctor leaned over and examined it closely.
"I do believe you're right," he grunted. "It looks like an injection bruise instead of a bruise cause by a blow. But it is very hard to tell. They're very similar. There appears to be an injection hole, though, which indicates it might have been made by an injection, yes."
"Do you know if any of your nurses could have done this?" I asked.
Doctor Faaborg shook his head and looked at me with a compassionate smile. "I really couldn't tell. We have so many nurses coming in and out of here all day."
I exhaled, disappointed. I had hoped for a more direct answer. What we got was nothing certain, but a maybe that brought us nowhere.
"Okay. Well thank you for your time," I said.
Morten was about to shake the doctor’s hand, when he suddenly made a strange shriek. "Did you see that?"
"See what?" I asked.
"It looked like his finger moved!" Morten looked at me like he had seen a ghost.
The doctor put his glasses on and went to the other side of Mads' body to look more closely.
"Right there," Morten said and pointed. "The pinky. It was only the tip, but I am positive he moved it."
The doctor stared at the pinky for a long time, but nothing happened. My heart was beating faster now.
"I saw it too," I said, full of hope. Could he really have moved it on purpose? Was he trying to tell us something? Could he be alive after all? "When we were in here earlier."
"Hm," the doctor said and examined Mads' hand and arm. He let it fall flat back on the bed. "Still seems lifeless." He took off his glasses and looked at me. "It's probably just reflex muscle jerks or twitches. It's not unusual."
"But what if it’s not?" I asked. "What if he’s alive?"
Doctor Faaborg chuckled. "No. He’s not alive. Of that I'm certain. He's completely brain-dead, but I will run a few more tests to be certain."
30
April 2012
THEY DIDN'T DARE TO stay in Alanya. Not so much because they were afraid of the police coming after them for killing those men in the street. No, they were scared of the family members and friends of those they had killed…other gang members coming after them to avenge their deaths. Someone could have seen what happened. There were eyes on every corner of streets like those.
So as soon as Signe felt good enough, they booked a plane out of there. They decided to go to Monaco. The small kingdom by the Mediterranean Sea occupied by casinos and multi-million-dollar-yachts. It was Mads' idea. He had been there once before with his friends when they just turned eighteen and were allowed inside the casinos. They booked a suite at Hotel Hermitage Monte-Carlo and soon threw themselves onto the king-sized bed. Mads was smiling happily. These were his kind of people; he felt at home while Signe felt estranged. Like she didn't belong. She was certain the snobbish man behind the counter downstairs had seen it on her when they checked in. He looked at her bruises like she was some hooker Mads had bought for the night.
"Have you seen this view?" Signe asked and pulled away the heavy curtain. She had never been in a place quite like this. The building itself looked like something a Russian Czar could have built. "Is that the ocean?"
Mads chuckled and came up behind her. He hugged her and held her tight. She froze. Physical affection had always been hard for her. She never knew what he wanted out of it. She wondered if he was going to have sex with her now and prepared herself mentally for it. But he didn't try anything. He didn't pull her pants down and bend her over the bed and force himself on her like she expected. He never did anything like that and it made Signe nervous. She never knew how to react. Was it because he didn't desire her enough? Wasn't she desirable? It wasn't that they didn't have sex. It was just so different than what she was used to. She didn't like it. It made her insecure. And since she’d been sick from the beating, Mads hadn't tried to get close to her, not even once in almost a week. It was breaking her heart. She wasn't used to men being careful with her. Her dad never was. Even if he had badly bruised her, he would still force himself on her. It was her own fault, he had told her back then…for making herself so desirable. He constantly wanted her and that had made her feel like she was loved. He told her himself that it was because he loved her so much that he wanted to be close to her.
Didn't Mads love her anymore?
Signe turned and kissed him passionately. "Take me," she whispered. "Fuck me right here."
"Not now," Mads said and pulled away. "You're still healing, remember? I don't want to hurt you."
Signe frowned. "You don't want to hurt me? Why not? Don't you love me?"
"What on earth do you mean?" Mads asked.
"You don't want to be with me."
He grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Signe, I love you. That's why I want to take care of you and make sure you're not hurt. Don't you understand?"
She shook her head. "No. I want you to fuck me." She grabbed his belt and started to undo it. It had always worked on her father if he was angry or upset. She pulled Mads' pants down and took it out. It was just hanging there. Signe gasped. It wasn't even erect. It was true then. He didn't desire her anymore. He didn't love her.
"Signe, not now," Mads said and pulled his pants back up.
She shook her head in desperation. A knot of tears grew in her throat. She tried to swallow it, but could hardly speak.
"I…I…." She turned her back on him then stormed out on the balcony where she burst into tears.
Mads came out after her. He handed her a cigarette. "Here," he said with a smile. She looked up at him.
"Care for a smoke?"
She sniffled and took one. She felt confused as she drew in the smoke. Mads was so nice to her. Why was he being so nice? What did it mean?
"I was thinking we could hit a couple of casinos tonight," he said, blowing smoke out into the fresh salty air. "Have a little fun again, huh? It's been a while since I've seen you smile. I know you like to have fun. Let's spend an insane amount of money and make my mother really angry once she finds out, huh?"
Signe smoked and felt better. She liked the idea. It did always make her feel better to spend money. She didn't care that they would probably end up using all the money they had been given to buy the house. She never felt like it was hers anyway.
"Okay," she said. "Let's rock and roll."
"Now there’s the smile I’ve missed so much."
31
April 2014
"WE’VE BEEN TRYING TO track down Signe Schou while you guys were gone," Rebekka said, as we came back to the office. "But we haven't found out much so far. Only that she never showed up at the theater. I talked to her mother on the phone, but she told me she hasn't seen Signe in two years. Not since they were married and went on their honeymoon. I don't know if she was telling the truth, though. She didn't seem like the most dependable type, if you know what I mean. She could be lying…maybe to protect her daughter."
I rubbed my forehead and sat down on a chair. Morten poured me some coffee.
"Thanks," I whispered and received a gentle smile in return.<
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Morten sat down as well. He could sense my tension. I couldn't bear the thought that another day was almost gone and I still hadn't come much closer to finding Maya. I kept looking at my phone, expecting her to call or text at any moment. If she was alive and hiding, she would contact me eventually, wouldn't she? I was afraid she was too scared. Maybe she thought I would be angry with her or something. I couldn't stand not knowing.
"So, what did you get out of your visit to the hospital?" Rebekka asked.
I exhaled sharply. "Not much really. It looks like he had some sort of injection in his thigh, one that left a bad bruise, but the doctor couldn't tell if it had happened at the hospital or at another time. It was really ugly though and didn't look very professional. It had been bleeding too. There was a lot of dried up blood surrounding it. But I don't know what it means or if it is really important."
"It could explain his limp," Sune said without looking up from his computer screen. "If the person who attacked him injected something and caused the bruise."
"That’s what I thought too," Morten said.
"Yeah, well it doesn't explain where Maya is," I said with another deep sigh. I was starting to lose hope and that wasn't good. I sipped my coffee, trying hard not to imagine Maya in trouble somewhere. I had closed my eyes for a second when my phone suddenly rang. I grabbed it. It was my dad's cell. He called every day at this hour when Victor came home from school. It was important for Victor that it was at the exact same time every day.
"Hi sweetie," he said. "How are things? Getting any better?"
"I can't say they are. How’s everything at home? How's Victor?"
"He's good. A little trouble at school, but we'll talk about it when you get back. Focus on what's important now. He wants to say hi to you."
"Put him on."
"Hi mom," he said, sounding all of a sudden so grown up. He was about to turn nine soon, so I guess he was growing up as well. I just had a harder time letting go of him than Maya, since he had always taken so much of my attention. I suddenly wished that he would never get older, that he would always stay my sweet innocent Victor.