Julienne had started at ?stermalm School. Jack had wanted her to go to the private school, Carlsson’s, where the royal family’s children went, or Fredrikshov Palace School, because there were rumors that was where the soccer player Zlatan Ibrahimovic was planning to send his sons, but Faye had refused. She didn’t want Julienne to grow up into the sort of teenager who complained loudly about having to go on trips to the Maldives.

Okay, so there weren’t exactly a lot of kids on welfare at ?stermalm School, but at least there were a few children who didn’t take it for granted that the summer would be spent in Marbella or New York, Christmas in the Maldives and half-term in their family’s chalet in Verbier or Chamonix.

Julienne was having a great time. Faye and Kerstin were the cornerstones of her life. She looked forward to her weekends with Jack before they happened, but was always withdrawn when she came home. It seemed he made a habit of promising more than he could deliver.

Faye parked the car on Banérgatan. Julienne was waiting on a bench by the elevator with her face in her iPad. Faye sat down beside her without her noticing. She only looked up when Faye nudged her in the side.

Julienne laughed and gave Faye a hug.

“What are you playing?”

“Pokémon,” Julienne said, tucking the iPad away in her backpack.

Faye took Julienne’s hand.

“Have you had a good day?” she said as they walked to the car.

“Yes.”

“You know you’re going to Daddy’s this weekend?”

“Mmh.”

She opened the door for Julienne and fastened her seat belt.

“That’ll be fun, won’t it?”

“Kind of.”

“Don’t you like being there?”

“Sometimes. They argue a lot and that isn’t nice. And Daddy’s away working most of the time.”

“Adults do argue sometimes, Julienne. Daddy and I used to as well. But it’s absolutely nothing to do with you, though I can appreciate that it’s not nice to hear. And it’s for your sake that Daddy works so much.”

She stroked Julienne’s cheek.

“Do you want me to talk to Daddy?”

Julienne shook her head hard.

“He’d be angry.”

“Why would he be angry?” Faye said, giving her a hug.

“Oh, nothing,” Julienne said quietly.

“Are you sure?”

Julienne nodded against her chest.

—

When Faye opened the door to the elevator Julienne rushed in ahead of her and ran into the kitchen.

The four-room apartment, spread out across eighteen hundred square feet on Karlav?gen, right opposite the ICA Esplanad supermarket, had cost fifteen million. But it was hers. Hers and Julienne’s.

“We’re home, Kerstin!” Julienne cried. Faye followed her into the kitchen.

“Hello, my little one,” Kerstin said, lifting Julienne into her arms.

Faye smiled. She had helped Kerstin buy the neighboring apartment, and they had dinner together most evenings. If Faye had to work, Kerstin was more than happy to sit with Julienne. There were no longer any au pairs in Faye and Julienne’s life.

Kerstin spoiled Julienne far too much. Faye didn’t really approve, but she didn’t have the heart to make an issue out of it. Kerstin was her anchor, her rock.

While Faye put the kettle on and filled the dishwasher Julienne ran off into the living room.

“What went wrong?” Kerstin whispered.

“He’s changed his password. I’ve found a way around it, but it’s going to take more time than I expected.”

The television went on in the living room.

“There’s only one problem,” Faye went on.

“And that is?”

“I’m going to need help from . . .”

She nodded in the direction of the noise from the television.

Kerstin’s eyes widened.

“You haven’t said anything about . . . ?”

“Of course not. She’s not going to be involved. Not knowingly, anyway.”

“You know, Faye, I have no objection to almost anything you do, I admire you and am happy to support you, but I don’t like this.”

“Nor do I,” Faye said. “But I haven’t any other way of getting at his computer.”

The kettle clicked. She took out two mugs and put them on the table.

“There are no guarantees here,” she said quietly. “I don’t even know if those documents are still there. But it’s our best chance. The most important thing is not to get desperate and make any mistakes that can be traced back to me.”

“To us,” Kerstin said, blowing on her tea. “There are two of us in this. I’ll back you all the way, regardless of whether I like it or not.”

Faye nodded. She too felt distinctly uneasy about using Julienne. But she didn’t have a choice.

—

They were lying on Julienne’s bed reading The Brothers Lionheart out loud. The dishwasher was rumbling away out in the kitchen.

Before Julienne went to bed, Faye had showed her the USB stick.

“Darling, there’s something I want to ask your help with,” she had said when they were sitting at the kitchen table. “I’m planning a surprise for Daddy.”

“What sort of surprise?”

Faye held up the USB stick.

“I can’t tell you yet, but you know how Daddy usually leaves his computer on in his study when he watches the financial news? I’d like you to stick this into his computer. Then, when you’ve done that, I want you to press this button.”

She pointed.

“And that’s all. Then you can take it out.”

“Why can’t I say anything to Daddy? He’s told me we mustn’t have any secrets from each other. We only have secrets from you.”

Faye frowned. What did she mean by that?

“Because that would spoil the surprise,” she replied. “Then, when you’ve done it and I come and pick you up, I’ll have a surprise for you!”

“What?”

“Something you’ve wanted for a long time.”

“A mobile?”

“You’re no fool, are you? Yes, your very own phone! So you won’t have to keep borrowing mine.”

“When can I have it?”

“On Sunday. It’ll be lying here waiting for you, if you help me.”

Faye felt terrible. But it couldn’t be helped. She had to get hold of those files.

Now Julienne had fallen asleep beside her and Faye put the book down on the bedside table and kissed her daughter’s warm hair. Her face looked so peaceful in her sleep, but a change had come over her recently. She had become more withdrawn, quieter. Faye could feel her anxiety growing, and couldn’t help wondering what sort of secrets Jack was sharing with his daughter. Probably something trivial, like Julienne being given ice cream for breakfast. But what if they were hiding something important from her?

—

Faye was lying on her back in her own bed—she’d found it hard to lie on her front since her breast enhancement. The air in the bedroom felt heavy, hard to breathe. She got up, grabbed her dressing gown and opened the door to the balcony. The autumn air felt fresh against her skin. She lit a cigarette and sank onto the wicker sofa. Every so often a car drove past on Karlav?gen, but most of Stockholm was sleeping.

Three years had passed. Three fantastic, industrious, successful years. When she allowed herself a moment to stop and reflect over everything that had happened she always felt astonished.

She had built up a successful business, made successful investments, had bought an apartment for her and Julienne, another for Kerstin, and had got back on her feet again. But, ridiculously, she sometimes asked herself if she didn’t still miss Jack. Or at least the fantasy of Jack.

Was that why her hatred had never faded? Was that why she was going ahead with a plan she had first thought up three years ago? Sure, there had been other men in that time, but before Jack was wiped out she didn’t dare embark on anything serious. She mustn’t lose focus. The goal was the whole point of it all.

Sometimes she wondered if she should be happy with what she had. After all, she had everything now. She had fought her way to success. She had money, social status, Julienne. But on some level she knew that wasn’t enough. He had taken so much from her. He had walked all over her to the point where she had barely been able to get up again. She couldn’t forgive that.

And her hatred had been nurtured by all the stories she had heard from other women over the years. Every day she went to the forum of Revenge’s online store and Instagram account to read new stories. There was a huge need out there for restitution, to rebuild lost pride, to fight back, take control, take revenge.

There was something primitive in that desire. The Old Testament had a lot to say about revenge. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. A desire for justice. She was no longer driven purely by her own hatred, now it was reinforced by the voices of thousands and thousands of other women. She had awoken something that had been slumbering for far too long.

Their fury was hers. And her fury was theirs.

Faye blew off some ash that had landed on her dressing gown, reached for her mobile, and went into Spotify. Eldkvarn’s “Alice” started to play quietly.

Her mom had always loved Eldkvarn. How many times had she told the story of the first time she saw them play live, and had been given Plura Jonsson’s guitar pick? That was before she met Faye’s father. After that the music had fallen silent.