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the kitchen for an idea—“their school lunch boxes.”

Ugh. The boys were thirteen and fifteen, and had never used lunch boxes. They smeared bread every morning with whatever they were eating that day, liverwurst or filet Americain or slapped on a slice of cheese and stuck it in a paper sack.

“Yeah, no, I don’t know,” said Lila, confused and, thankfully, distracted. From the sound in the background it seemed as if the apartment over there was full of monkeys. “Hold on.” She went away and came back. “Sorry, the delivery company is just in the middle of bringing in Jasper’s new bed. Can I call you back?”

“Totally unimportant,” Grace said, grateful for someone else’s chaos. “No need.”

“Okay,” said Lila. “All right, then. See you Sunday? Tomorrow.”

“Right.”

Grace hung up the phone and plopped down onto the closest chair. Jesus, what was she thinking?

It was far too late to ask Lila any questions about Martijn. She’d already committed herself to the man. Anyway, women didn’t ask other women about their histories with men, even though that probably would have been the practical thing to do. Of course, the real question wasn’t really whether she should have asked Lila all about what Martijn was like in relationships but rather if she would have listened.

Right, time for a bath. She managed to haul herself upstairs to the bathroom, turning on the tub faucet all the way and running the water very hot. There must be some bubble bath here somewhere, she thought as she began to unbutton her blouse and kicked off her shoes. She wrestled with her pants until they fell onto the floor and she didn’t bother to pick anything up, just left the clothes in a mound on the floor, as if her body had dematerialized suddenly and her costume was all that had been left behind.

And then she glanced up and saw herself in the mirror. The image astonished her. She looked, plainly, awful. Her hair was tousled and unkempt, and her skin was splotchy, with darker continents of melasma drifting across her cheeks, but these signs of aging and personal neglect weren’t what concerned her. It was her eyes. She had always had slightly olive-toned half-moons under her eyes, but now they were an unhealthy shade of purple and more deeply sunken. Her eyes, too, seemed somehow dimmed, ransacked of their sparkle.

She pulled out the drawers under the sink and rifled through to find a hand mirror. Tentatively, she raised it and tried to hold it over her shoulder to make a double reflection in the larger wall mirror over the sink. There wasn’t enough light in the bathroom to see anything, so she opened the shutters wide and turned on the lights above the sink. Still, it was hard to see. She hoisted herself onto the edge of the sink to get a better look.

Moving the hand mirror like a target, finally she found the right spot. There it was, just below her shoulder blade and above her scapula on the right side of her back. A red spot in the shape of a kidney bean, with a small bloody slice through the middle. It was, in truth, not a bad cut, but it had bled a little. She searched the bathroom drawers for cotton swabs and ran one under cold water, adding soap. She would use it after her bath.

Thinking of how suddenly he’d become so angry that morning, Grace felt it in her bones: something was really wrong. She had to at least try to figure out what.

Chapter 7Lady of the Flies

“Oh, come on!” said Karin, exasperated by the stupidity of Dirk standing there with his giant stick. “Can’t we just get going on the trail? I’d like to get to the campsite before midnight.”

“They’re going to have hot chocolate and sausages,” added Lotte hopefully.

“Who is going to be the king of the forest?” said Dirk, meaning it. “We’re here, no Scout guides for the first time. Now it’s just a question of who gets there first.”

“Um, no, it’s not,” said Karin. “This isn’t a competition. It’s a group activity.”

Dirk laughed. “Ugh, group activity.” Margot looked at him and laughed too. “So we all walk along in the woods together and get there on time? That’s seriously boring. Can’t we make some fun out of it? Let’s split up and see who makes it there first. Margot and I will give you guys the lead, even.”

“Duh, you think we don’t know that you’re just trying to get rid of us so you can have Margot to yourself?” Lotte said. Karin was again pretty impressed with her. It was cool that she would say those kinds of things out loud. Karin didn’t dare to.

“There’s no rule that says we all have to go together,” Margot said.

“Um, yes, there is,” Karin said. “That’s actually the first rule. That’s the main rule.”

Margot crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s a stupid rule.”

“O-M-G, guys,” said Lotte. “We don’t want to be all alone in the forest; it’s getting dark out here, and there aren’t any grown-ups. The whole thing is to stay together. Let’s just keep going, okay?”

“Okay,” said Karin. “Cool. Let’s just go.”

Dirk leapt into the air and came down from the top of the hill, not far from where Lotte and Karin stood. “You’ll have to get through me first!” he said. “That means you’ll have to battle me.” The giant silver stick came a little too close to Karin’s face.

“Jesus, you could’ve hit me in the head with that,” she said. “Quit fooling around.”

Dirk’s eyes met hers, and they were not friendly. They were darkening into narrow slits. “Why do you think you’re in charge, little miss lady? Aren’t you the youngest? I’m the oldest,” he said. “I’m the fastest, the strongest. I’m also the smartest.”

Margot giggled, maybe without meaning to. Karin and Lotte glanced at each other, Lotte rolling her eyes. This was probably not the reaction Dirk expected. “Stop being

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