'Yes, you were.'
Maja nodded grimly, as if this confirmed something she had suspected for a long time.
'What did you do then?'
Anders looked into her serious, worried eyes. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead.
'I came to find you. Of course.'
In the churchyard in Naten there is an anchor. An enormous anchor made of cast iron, with a memorial plaque:
IN MEMORY OF THOSE LOST AT SEA
After the incomprehensible storm, the anchor was no longer there. From the spot where the anchor had been, a fresh trench ran down to the shore. As if the anchor had been dragged along by its chain, dragged through the earth like a plough, leaving the furrow behind it before it disappeared into the sea.
Whatever had been fastened to the anchor had torn itself free. Or been set free.
