Chapter 11: My Terms

I stood in the hall with my suitcase while Florian played it for me.

Clemens's voice came out of the phone, easy and low, and I heard him say the line I had been waiting for.

"She'll cry less in front of people."

When it ended I did not feel anything for a moment.

Then I laughed.

It came up out of my stomach, short and ugly, and I put my hand over my mouth.

"Marit," Nils said.

"He was right."

"About what?"

"I didn't cry."

My hand fell.

"I stood in front of all those people and I didn't cry once. He planned for me to be quiet."

"He planned wrong," Florian said.

"Did he?"

I looked at the two of them in the lamplight.

Nils's cheek had gone purple, and Florian had not slept in days.

I was furious, and I knew I would be for a long time.

Under the fury was something clean and loud.

"I asked you to tell me what you wanted," I said. "Three years ago, Nils, you asked me for a coffee."

"Yes."

"Did you mean coffee?"

"No." He didn't look away. "I meant I'd have followed you across the city. I still would."

"And you?" I turned to Florian.

"I stood at the back of every dinner he cooked for you," Florian said.

"I waited through every agonizing minute."

I closed my eyes.

When I opened them the air in the hall had changed.

"Here are my terms," I said.

They both went still.

"Nothing happens in the dark. Nothing happens because someone is pretending.

"If you touch me, I'm awake, and I say what I want out loud, and so do you."

"Done," Nils said.

"Say it with me awake, or don't touch me."

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