“What kind of toy?” she asked.
“Whatever you want.”
“Really?”
“If you smile.”
She had a strange feeling in her stomach. She thought that a smile would buy her what she wanted most of all in the whole world—a doll to hold tight at night, so she wouldn’t feel so alone.
A doll, for a smile.
The photographer signaled again.
“Okay!” he yelled. “Now then. One, two, three!”
She smiled.
Click.
“There we go! That’s it.”
She had sat expectantly in the car on the way home. As they approached downtown, she couldn’t keep it in any longer.
“Are we going shopping now?” she asked.
But her father had kept his eyes straight ahead the whole time.
“No,” he said.
“But we were going to buy a doll...”
“I don’t have time right now.”
“You promised,” she said quietly.
“I didn’t promise it would be today.”
She had tried to catch his eye but couldn’t. Then she understood. His voice had been soft.
She had felt a small shudder pass through her body. She had been afraid that he would notice, afraid that he would see that she had learned how to tell when something was wrong. When something was terribly wrong.
Jana moved her gaze from the photograph to the window. Her hands were clenched into fists. That day, as a nine-year-old in the car on the way home from their summerhouse, she had learned not to trust anyone. If she wanted something, she had to rely on herself. There was no one else to do it for her. She couldn’t leave anything to chance.
If she wanted to stop the gnawing sense of uneasiness in her body, she would have to find Robin Stenberg. Tonight.
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