Chapter 57
For the third time in just over a month, Ambra landed at the windy, snowy airport in Kiruna; walked the short, ice-cold distance from the plane to the terminal building; and stamped the snow from her feet once inside. This time she wouldn’t be leaving Kiruna until she got the answers she wanted. She grabbed her bags and went out. Just like last time, she was met by piles of snow, a wind so cold it made her gasp for air, and howling sled dogs. The airport bus opened its steaming doors, and she climbed onboard and took a window seat. It was snowing so hard she could barely see the road.
The bus shook and Ambra braced herself with a hand on the seat in front. She looked out, thought of the two foster girls. How were they doing?
She remembered falling in the garden once, twisting her foot beneath her. Esaias and Rakel had forced her to stand on that foot, to walk on it. It hurt so much that she passed out. When she woke, they forced her up again, smothered her in creams, and prayed to God. When that didn’t help, they shouted at her as she was lying on the floor in tears, and they said she wouldn’t allow God to help her. The school nurse sent her to the hospital, and an X-ray showed a fracture.
It was unbearable to think that something similar—or worse—could be happening to those girls right now. She’d felt so alone and abandoned while she lived in Kiruna that she didn’t have the words for it. Finding out now, years later, that people had known what was going on and still had done nothing was terrible. Knowing that didn’t give her any comfort. In fact, it filled her with rage. And it filled her with a dire conviction. She would fix this.
Somehow she had to put everything right. Because she knew that two children were suffering with Esaias and Rakel Sventin, and she was worried about what they had planned with the exorcist. She couldn’t shut her eyes or turn away. And even if she lost her job as a result—or worse—she would still do everything in her power. What had happened to her simply couldn’t be allowed to happen again.
She saw the now-familiar road signs and landmarks pass by, and twenty minutes later she checked in to the Scandic Ferrum once again. The receptionist recognized her and gave her a different room this time, higher up and with a better view. She could make out the mountain in the distance, and through all the snow she could see a pink sky kissing the hilltops. Within an hour or so, it would be dark.
Ambra grabbed her new rucksack and her thick, new gloves. She buttoned her new winter coat up to her chin. It was a miracle. She didn’t feel cold at all.
This time, she was ready and equipped for Kiruna.
* * *
The hospital was within walking distance of the hotel, and Ambra asked for help finding the wing Elsa was in.
Ambra knocked gently on the door, suddenly terrified at what she might see. What if Elsa was hooked up to all kinds of wires? If she was dying? Unconscious? But when she opened the door, her worries vanished. Elsa’s face lit up like a lantern when she saw her. “Darling child, you didn’t need to come all the way up here for my sake!”
Ambra took a step into the room. It smelled like a hospital, and there was a drip next to Elsa’s bed, but otherwise it didn’t seem so bad. “You look well,” she said.
Elsa reached out, and Ambra squeezed her hand tight. The old lady sat up against the pillows. “How nice to see you. It’s good to see a young person. How are you? Are you hungry?”
“I brought supplies,” Ambra said, holding up the box she’d bought on the way.
“Wonderful! What is it?”
“A mix. Cream buns, almond cakes, seven types of cookies.”
Elsa clapped her hands. “Kaffeeklatsch! I feel better already.”
“How are you doing?” Ambra asked while she took out the baked goods, fetched two mugs of coffee, grabbed a vase, and placed the small bunch of tulips she’d bought into it.
“Much better now.”
“I was so worried,” said Ambra. She pulled out a chair and sat down by the bed. Elsa sipped her coffee and tucked into the sweet things.
A nurse came in. “And how is Elsa today?” she asked in a hearty voice.
“Fine, especially now I have a special visitor.”
“Is this your granddaughter?”
“She could be,” Elsa said warmly.
The nurse disappeared, and Elsa smiled at Ambra. “No more talking about me. How are you, dear Ambra? Do you really have time to be up here?”
“It’s all fine,” she said dismissively.
Elsa put down her cup and clasped her hands on top of the hospital blanket. There was a needle taped to the back of her hand. “Tell me.”
“I don’t want to talk about myself,” Ambra protested. “Everything’s fine, I want to talk about you, about the girls, about that picture you sent.”
Elsa shook her head. “Is it the man you talked about?”
Ambra twisted in her seat. “How did you know?”
Elsa gestured with her hands. The drip line followed her movement. “It’s always a man. Or a woman.”
Ambra brushed a crumb from her knee. “We fought.”
“Ah, I’m sorry.”
“I slapped him.”
“Good, that might knock a little sense into the man,” Elsa said firmly, and Ambra had to smile. It felt good to have someone so unconditionally on her side. She would survive this, too. In the grand scheme of things, a broken heart wasn’t such a big deal.
Ambra got up, straightened a tulip, and gave Elsa a reassuring smile. “He’s an idiot.”
“He really is if he can’t appreciate you.”
“Thanks.”
It felt good to be back in Kiruna, she realized with slight surprise. It was restful to be so far away from Tom, Ellinor, and Stockholm. Knowing she wouldn’t bump into a grim-faced Tom or an ever-smiling Ellinor the minute she turned the corner.
“Are you sure that’s the end, though? It seemed like you two had something special. This is the young man with the Northern Lights and the dog? The one you talked about?”
Ambra smiled, but she shook her head. “I don’t think so. I fought with my sister, too,” she said, taking another cookie. The fight with Jill was hanging over her like a huge cloud of despair.
“My dear, you’ve had a tough time lately.”
“Elsa, I came here to see you, to see how you were doing. I was so worried. But I also came because of the picture you sent,” she said.
“Did you find out who he is?”
“Yeah. And it’s not good. Have you ever heard about the Laestadians performing exorcisms?”
Elsa frowned. “Ingrid mentioned it once. Awful.”
“His name is Uno Aalto. He’s from Finland. An eastern Laestadian who travels around and preaches. And drives out evil spirits.”
“My goodness. And he’s here? Do you think he will attack the girls?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. But I feel completely powerless. No one believes me when I tell them. It’s so frustrating.”
She had called social services again, and the police, and had tried to find and contact the school the girls attended, but all without success. It was like coming up against a wall of mistrust. The voices of the various officials had become increasingly irritated, until eventually they were openly hostile, treating her as if she were a madwoman. She had almost started to believe it herself, that she had become one of those clichés: a crazy journalist, a crank.
“I believe you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re an incredibly smart woman. I just wish you could see it yourself.” Elsa took Ambra’s hand and squeezed it. Ambra squeezed back. Elsa’s hand was so thin. God, the woman was ninety-two; she could be dying. Wasn’t everyone, by definition, dying by the time they approached one hundred?
“What are you going to do now?” Elsa asked.
Ambra looked out the hospital window. All she had were a few blurry pictures taken by Elsa and a half confirmation from Lotta the social worker that the girls were foster children. There wasn’t really much she could do with so little information.
But she remembered how many times she had been sent to Esaias’s basement, how desperate she was. How she cried and hoped someone would save her, though she should have given up any hope long before. All those times she prayed intensely to her mom and dad, whispered that if they existed, if they were thinking of her up there in heaven, they should give her a sign. No sign ever came. Not a single person on earth cared whether she lived or died. But those two girls would be saved. She would save them. Anyone who tried to stop her could go to hell.
She gave Elsa a serious look. “I’m going to go over there. Talk to Esaias. I have to.”
“I think you do have to. But be careful, promise me that.”
Ambra nodded. “I promise.”
She got up from her seat, full of a new, angry energy. She would do this. Everything was falling into place.
She turned to Elsa. “Can you promise me something too?”
Elsa turned her pale, wrinkled face to her. When she smiled, the expression formed a web of lines and furrows. “Anything, my dear.”
“Promise not to die before I come back.”
Elsa nodded solemnly. “I’ll try.”