She moved the mouse and the computer came to life, and she typed in Jack’s old password. Held her breath. Good, he hadn’t changed that one. An oversized picture of Jack and Ylva appeared. They were embracing on a Jet Ski. She forced herself to stop staring at the image, inserted the USB she was holding, and did what Nima had told her.

It took her a matter of seconds to find the hidden file that had logged his activity, and she clicked to transfer it to the memory stick. Then she went into My Documents and transferred the files she found there, even though she didn’t anticipate finding anything useful in them.

She heard a scraping sound from the corridor outside. She quickly put the computer back into sleep mode and looked around desperately for somewhere to hide, but before she had time to do anything the door swung open. She turned around.

Jack was standing in the doorway. The expression on his face switched quickly from surprise to suspicion.

Faye thought quickly. She smiled at Jack. Submissively. Apologetically.

“I . . . I just wanted to see how you’d furnished your study. You know I always loved this desk. I suppose I was curious to know if you’d kept it.”

He processed the information. Appeared to conclude that she was same na?ve, pathetic creature she had always been.

“Why?”

“Oh, this is so silly,” she said, looking down at the floor. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t be in here, this is your home, it’s not right, but I got a bit nostalgic . . .”

She took a step toward the door but when she was about to pass him he grabbed hold of her wrist. She almost dropped the USB stick from her hand.

“Why did you want to see how I’d furnished my study?” he asked with a smile as he pulled her toward him.

She smelled that familiar scent again. His hard penis pressed against her hip and against her will she felt herself getting wet.

“Do you miss me? Is that what this nostalgia of yours is all about?” Jack whispered hoarsely in her ear.

“Jack, stop it,” she murmured.

But he ignored her protests. His eyes were blazing. He didn’t like it when she objected. The old Faye had never said no, was more likely to beg and plead for him to touch her, to notice her.

His voice became scornful but he didn’t let go of her.

“So little Faye has had her tits done to get more attention in bars. Have you missed getting fucked by a real man? Is that why you’ve come here, begging to be fucked? I’ve heard all about the way you’ve been behaving. Going home with one man after the other. No, not men. Boys. How many have you had sex with since we split up, Faye? Have any of their cocks been bigger than mine? I bet you’ve had more than one at a time as well.”

His own words were making him pant, his cock grew harder against her hip, pressing against her. Faye’s body responded, and she let it, so that she could protect the USB stick. She didn’t protest when he unzipped her dress and pulled it down to her waist. He tore her bra off. Ran his fingers over her breasts. Squeezed them hard. They had healed well, but she didn’t have any feeling in the scar tissue, so his touch felt rather odd.

“Little Faye, who just wants to be fucked.”

Jack turned her around. Grabbed the hem of her dress and hoisted it up over her hips. Undid his trousers. He pushed her forward, over the desk that once belonged to Ingmar Bergman, and pressed into her. She gasped. Felt invaded.

“You like that, don’t you?” he snarled. “Being fucked from behind like some horny secretary. You might be a CEO now, but you still like getting fucked like a whore. Is this what they do to you, Faye? Do they take you like this? Those young guys? Do they turn you around and fuck you from behind?”

He was panting harder now, and kicked her legs farther apart so he could push deeper, pressing her down on the desk with his right hand coiled hard in her hair.

His movements grew rougher. Faye held onto the desk with the hand that wasn’t holding the USB stick. She groaned girlishly, she knew he liked that. With her left cheek pressed against the desk she stared at the photograph of Ylva’s serious, black-and-white face.

He reached his climax. Faye felt a stab of pain as he pressed in further. He groaned one last time, pulled out, took a step back, and fastened his trousers. She lay there for a few seconds before standing up and pulling her dress down.

“You’ve always been a first-class fuck,” Jack said. “I’ve missed this.”

He smiled at her, pointed at her breasts, which were still exposed, flushed, with large, swollen nipples.

“They’ve turned out really well, I like them.”

Jack looked full of confidence. Order had been restored. He had conquered her, reclaimed what was his, at least for a while. She let him believe that.

Without letting go of the USB stick she slipped her arms back into the top half of the dress and pulled it up over her shoulders. Then she turned her back on Jack and held her hair up so he could fasten the zip. Seconds later he was gone.

When Faye walked back into the tent the girls in their expensive designer dresses were standing up and singing “Happy Birthday.” Sean and Ville were leading the singing.

Ylva glanced over at her. She looked suspicious but resigned. Her skin had taken on a greenish pallor in the heat of the tent and she looked like she felt sick, her blond hair hanging limply. She pointed at Julienne, who was now wearing a sparkling crown.

When everyone in the tent had given three cheers Jack appeared beside Ylva, kissed her on the cheek, and put his arm around her. Ylva relaxed. Faye couldn’t hold back a smirk. She could feel Jack’s semen slowly trickling out of her, down the inside of her thighs.

FJ?LLBACKA—THEN

MOM WAS WHIMPERING down in the kitchen but I couldn’t get up from my bed, couldn’t stop Dad’s blows from hitting their target. Instead I let the darkness envelop all my anxiety, shut out all my fear.

Autumn would soon be here and Dad would do worse things to Mom. To me and Sebastian. It felt like the stormy autumns never ended, with Dad like a raging animal trapped in a cage with his prey. We all circled around one another: a small, isolated unit in a small, isolated town.

Sometimes I dreamed that someone would come and save us. Everyone knew, after all. Even if they had no idea how bad it was, they knew enough. Why didn’t anyone come and save us? Free us? But everyone sheepishly averted their gaze, blind to the bruises and cuts. None of the teachers ever said anything. None of the doctors at the clinic ever commented on the injuries Mom, Sebastian, and I showed up with. Last winter Mom had to get medical help eight times. A dislocated shoulder. A fractured wrist. A cracked jaw. No one questioned her stories about clumsy falls down cellar steps, the doors of kitchen cupboards suddenly flying open to attack her. Everyone shut their eyes.

What would this winter be like?

Mom’s crying grew even louder when my door opened and closed. Sebastian padded over to my bed and curled up next to me. He fell asleep snuggled up beside me, like a dog seeking warmth. But I found no comfort in his presence. No one needed to tell me that the only person I could find comfort in was myself. I had found that out the hard way.

I was stronger than they were. Especially Sebastian.

Sebastian’s breathing merged with the sound of the sea raging outside. The last of the summer visitors had left for the season. They all pretended not to hear the screams from our house, one of the few that was inhabited all year round. Presumably they didn’t want anything unpleasant to disturb their summer holiday. In a way I could understand that. But I couldn’t help wondering if they ever spared a thought for the children in the next house when they shut their summer pleasures away and went back to their nice homes in Gothenburg. Probably not.

Once Faye had dropped Julienne off at school the next day she shut herself away in her office, opened her laptop and went through the file from the key logger. It took her ten minutes to find the new password for Jack’s Gmail account: venividivici3848.

She hadn’t told anyone about what had happened in his study. No matter how much she might have hated having to play the role of desperate little Faye, she hadn’t had any choice. Jack mustn’t be allowed to get suspicious, she’d had to go along with him to prevent him from finding the USB stick that had been scorching her hand. But she couldn’t deny that she had enjoyed feeling Jack inside her again. That troubled her. Annoyed her. That was a chink in her armor that she couldn’t afford.

Faye logged into his Gmail account, scrolled through the files, and found what she was looking for. She downloaded everything, calmly and methodically.

Everything she needed was there.