Claudia Fernandez gets off the bus at Dalarö Beach Hotel. As she walks to the harbour, she can hear the sounds of helicopters and sirens fading into the distance. The search can’t be over. They have to keep looking. A few police boats are moving out on the water. She looks around. There’s no ferry at the dock and no cars waiting at the harbour.
“Penelope!” she screams right into the air. “Penelope!”
She realises she must look insane, but without Penelope, there’s nothing left on this earth for her.
She begins to walk along the water. The grass is dry and brown, with rubbish everywhere. Seagulls screech in the distance. She begins to run, but soon can’t keep it up and she starts to walk again. Empty cottages stand on the edge of a cliff. She stops next to a sign by a dock where the word private is written in white letters. She turns onto the cement dock and looks towards the large cliffs. There’s no one here, she thinks. She turns back to the harbour. A man is walking along the gravel road and he waves to her. It’s a dark figure with his coat flapping in the breeze. She blinks in the sunlight. The man shouts something. Claudia looks at him in confusion. He begins to walk more quickly, nears her, and only then does she recognise his friendly face.
“Claudia Fernandez!” he calls out.
“That’s me,” she replies, and waits for him to catch up with her.
“I’m John Bengtsson,” he says as he reaches her. “Joona Linna sent me to find you. He told me that you’d probably come here.”
“Why do you need me?” she says in a weak voice.
“Your daughter is alive.”
Claudia looks into the man’s face. He repeats those words.
“Penelope is alive,” he’s saying, and he gives her a big smile.