I finished every last, delicious crumb of the breakfast Lela had prepared for me. I watched her leave the kitchen, listening to her soft footsteps as she climbed the stairs. After a few minutes, the cascading sound of running water drifted down.

  Any dark thoughts that might have been lingering in my mind evaporated, replaced with the steady rush of water from the bathroom. Lela was perfect in every way. There was no selfishness in her. She had no ulterior motives. Everything she did for me, she did it out of love and friendship. She never expected anything in return.

  My eyes drifted to the large kitchen window. Outside, the back garden was a wide lawn of brown grass. Along the edges rose tall pine trees. The deeper shadows of those trees were a harbour, a final shelter. The last stand for the remnants of the winter’s snow, which stubbornly still held on. The sky above was an expanse of bright blue.

  A sharp click of boots on the tiled floor, echoed around the kitchen and brought me back from my daydream. Lela stepped towards me looking as immaculate as ever. She wore leather trousers that clung closely to her slender legs and a red and black flannel shirt, draped open over a plain black t-shirt. Her long hair glistened, still slightly damp after her shower. Bright red lips drew back into a smile as she glided effortlessly towards me. The purple-black bruise under her eye and on her cheekbone stood out sharply against the paleness of her skin.

  “There, now we’re both looking presentable. Well, almost...” My friend chuckled, her finger absently rising to touch her injured eye.

  My stomach twisted and my chest constricted as she did so. I winced as the pang of guilt hit me, a sickening jolt of shame that stole my breath, stabbing into my breast like an icy blade.

  Lela's laughter trailed off as she noticed my expression. The smile faded from her lips, replaced with the familiar look of concern.

  “Hey, I’ve told you not to worry about it.” She said, her voice softening, “It’ll heal in no time. Anyway, I was thinking that perhaps for my next gig I’ll wear some black and white makeup, it won’t even notice then. If it’s good enough for Kiss, it’s good enough for the Arctic Howl.”

  “You’ve been getting gigs?” I quickly replied. “That’s great! I noticed your EP upstairs. You two must be doing well?”

  “It’s been a crazy few months, you wouldn’t believe it. We’ve managed to get a residency at the Kjelleren every other Thursday night. It’s not quite the Rockefeller or the Spektrum yet, but one day...”

  “One day I’m expecting, ‘Arctic Howl, live at Wembley’.” I interrupted with a giggle.

  I had never seen Wembley in person but I thought back to all the times that I’d sat in Lela’s bedroom watching her video of Live Aid. I’d sit there while Lela would dance and belt out lyrics from bands like Queen, The Who, David Bowie, and all the other amazing acts that performed on that legendary stage. It looked like such an amazing place, full of so much energy and life.

  Another soft giggle escaped my lips. Had it really been almost a year since I had last seen my best friend? In that small moment, as we chatted wildly of hopes and dreams, the past year seemed to vanish. It felt like we had never been apart.

  “Wembley...” Lela’s voice trailed off wistfully, as if she was imagining herself on that stage.

  Suddenly, those dark brown eyes first flickered to the red plastic clock, hanging on the wall before fixing back on me. Her mouth tightened and eyes narrowed slightly. Her voice took on a serious tone, “What do you want to do, Heidi? Is there anyone you want to call? I can give you a lift somewhere? Back to your house perhaps?”

  I blinked as that whimsical moment we had just shared faded away and the stark truth of reality settled back, heavily upon my shoulders. I hadn’t given any thought to what I would do next. Until then, my only goal had been to reach Lela.

  Who was there to call? I didn’t have anyone. I had no family left, and if I was brutally honest with myself, I had no other real friends either. I had always considered myself popular, but in reality, other than Lela, everyone else had been little more than acquaintances. People that I had flitted between. People that I had used for whatever purpose served me at the time and then, once I had got what I had wanted from them, I cast them aside.

  The only other person who would perhaps be there for me was Magnus, but he thought I was mad and going to him would undoubtedly raise difficult questions that I couldn’t answer.

  “Home, I guess...” I sighed. There wasn’t really anywhere else to go if Lela didn’t want me around.

  “Hey, there’s no rush!” Lela interjected quickly, obviously picking up on my tone. “We can stay here and chat if you need to talk. Or take a ride into the city and grab a cup of coffee? You’ve been through a lot. I thought you might just want to get back to a bit of normality. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here for you for as long as you need me.”

  I paused, thinking for a moment. “Home would be good, thank you, Lela.”

  I wasn’t sure that I could manage the city just yet, with all those people looking at me and judging me. Perhaps getting back into my own environment would do me some good.

  Smiling and, with a jangle, she plucked her car keys out of a small blue bowl on the work surface and led me out of the kitchen and into the living room.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Slipping on her black coat, she pulled up the zip and then passed my jacket.

  We stepped out of the front door and down the stone steps. The crisp bite in the spring air was invigorating. A soft breeze brushed my face and carried the scent of pine mixed with the fresh, salty twang that rose from the Oslofjord.

  Unconsciously, my fingers met and intertwined with Lela’s. She glanced at me, offering me a small smile as together we made our way towards the red Volkswagen Golf.

  Turning the key in the lock, she swung open her door and gracefully slipped into the driver’s seat. Leaning across, she unlocked the passenger side and threw open my door.

  The drive from Lela’s house to mine took around twenty minutes. I don’t think either of us said more than a couple of words that entire journey. I just sat there with my eyes fixed on the world that rolled past outside. Stately, elegant white buildings flashed by. Large horse chestnut trees lined the roads, their bare branches just beginning to show the first signs of small green buds.

  The fresh scent of salt gradually gave way to the thick smells of exhaust and traffic as we approached the city’s centre. The monotony of red brick and grey concrete office buildings replaced the sophistication of the facaded houses. Travelling in the opposite direction, a light blue tram, packed with people going about their lives, glided past, wheels screeching on the metal rails.

  Oslo was living and breathing, its pulse beat everywhere I looked. The people were going about their lives as they always had done. My chest tightened as I watched the hustle and bustle of city life playing out in front of me. Shops and cafes slipped past us. The air was filled with the roar of engines, car horns and the occasional whirl of a siren. This was my world, it was a world that felt so familiar to me, a world that I had been so cruelly snatched away from.

  My eyes wandered from one person to the next. The young couple walking down the road, hand in hand, the businessman in his dark suit, the girl on the blue bicycle ringing her bell. I watched them all, but none of them even noticed the blonde woman in the little red Golf who passed them by. They were oblivious to us. They just continued existing in their own little bubbles, unaware of the things that I had been through.

  Eventually, the buildings began to thin out and the roads grew narrower as we left the urban sprawl behind us. The car’s engine shifted from a steady, dull hum to a high-pitched moan as we started to climb the steep, winding roads towards Holmenkollen.

  Houses built from stone and wood nestled on the hillsides behind thick mixture tall green pine and spruce trees. Every now and again, the trees would open out just enough to give a view out over the city. Each time, I gasped, the entire city spread out before me and beyond it, the calm and tranquil waters of the Oslofjord glistened. It was a view that had always awed me, but seeing it on that day just felt so much more special.

  I was finally coming home.

  Around one last bend and I could feel the smile on my face. My body started shaking in anticipation because there, standing dark and grey on the slope above us, with its red painted window frames, was my house.

  The tyres crunched on the loose gravel of our driveway as Lela stopped the car, pulling on the handbrake with a metallic click.

  Stepping out of the car, I froze. A deep breath stuck in my lungs as I looked up at the house. I felt the gentle, soft pressure of Lela’s hand on my shoulder as a tear traced a wet path down my cheek. Being back there brought so many bright and vivid memories flooding through my mind. They were memories of laughter and happiness.

  I remembered when we had first moved here. I had been nine years old, and I remember playing football on that front lawn with Lars and Dad. Crying when we lost the ball after Lars kicked it over the fence and it had disappeared down the hill. Lela was there too. Both of us were devastated that we wouldn’t be living next door to each other anymore, so Dad said she could sleep over that first night.

  The following morning, we woke up and came downstairs to find two bars of chocolate waiting for us on the kitchen table where Dad had left them before going to work. Their bright yellow wrappings seemed to shine like gold.

  A sharp jolt surged up my spine as a sudden, loud noise smashed through the thoughts in my head. I stumbled backwards. It was a deep, gruff, bestial noise that came from inside of the house. It almost sounded like... like a dog barking.

  Bella!

  Kicking up loose gravel behind me and with the sound of my heart pounding in my chest, I ran for the door!

  I had clung so tenaciously to the impossible hope that I might see her again. That I might bury my face into her soft black fur and once again see those deep, all knowing eyes looking up at me. During the dark months, that one hope had been my shield. Clinging on to it, it had comforted and protected me. Just, as a small girl, I had clung on to Astrid, my old woollen doll for protection from the darkness.

  But the things that Lars was capable of, the things that I had seen him do...

  I had desperately pushed any thoughts of what he might do to her out of my head. Yet, of all the scenarios, of all the cruel, twisted possibilities, deep down in my heart I had never expected that she might still be alive.

  My hand snatched at the cold brass of the door handle, turning and tugging it frantically. It didn’t budge. It was locked.

  “Bella!” I called out her name in a shrill voice as I frantically plunged my hands into the pockets of my ski jacket.

  Empty! No keys!

  Of course, I wouldn’t have my keys with me.

  Bella’s bark suddenly sounded distant and muffled.

  Lars would have had a key... but that would mean going back to the cabin. I couldn’t go back there. There had to be another way.

  My thoughts tumbled chaotically over themselves. I could break in. The back door had always had a slightly dodgy lock. With a good shove, it would probably give.

  “You might need this.” A sweet voice behind me said.

  I spun around, Lela stood behind me. In her hand she held out a pewter keyring, a dragon coiled around a pink crystal. Various brass keys of different sizes hung from the chain, jangling slightly against each other. Of course, Lela had a key! We had given her one a few years ago so that she could feed and walk Bella when we were away.

  A smile, bright and wide beamed across my face as I snatched the keys from her. Searching through them, I found a familiar, yellow brass Chub key.

  Clumsily, I fumbled it into the lock, turning it with a sharp, mechanical click.

  I hadn’t even managed to get the door halfway open before the big black shape of a German shepherd burst through the opening. Her pink tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth and her warm breath misting the crisp air.

  Two giant paws thudded into my shoulders as she launched herself forwards, sending me toppling backwards onto the gravel. The weight of her pinned me firmly to the ground. Her hot, panting breath was warm against my cheek and her wet tongue drew across my face enthusiastically.

  Something stirred inside of me, it started in my heart, like a warm fizz of bubbles. It grew to fill my chest. It flooded across my entire body like a tingling wave until it escaped from my mouth, first as a tittering giggle and then growing into a deep bellowing laugh.

  I could hear Lela standing over me, the peals of her own high-pitched laughter joining mine.