Page 30 of Snowman

Thor's eyes sharpened. "Josh Johansson and Victor Lundqvist?" His voice was careful, even. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak again. The names were out now, spoken into existence. I'd chosen to speak. I couldn't be silent anymore.

They exchanged a glance, a glance that twisted my stomach. They didn't write it down; they didn't need to. It was as if voicing their names sealed something they knew but rather did not acknowledge. Isak leaned in, sitting on the edge of my bed. His blue eyes bored into mine, as if he searched for cracks, for lies.

"Sometimes we get confused," he said softly, his voice deep, almost too calm.

Of all the things, it was his voice that shook me most of all, that deep timbre, so close to his,Snowman's.

It can't be,I thought as my mind went racing, out of control.

Isak's gaze lingered a moment longer, heavy and unreadable, before Thor pulled him back. "Isak, can you give us a moment?" Thor's voice was firm, brooking no argument.

Isak stood slowly, watching me as he left the room. I tracked his movements out of the corner of my eye. Broad shoulders. Heavy footsteps. He glanced back just once before disappearing through the door. I exhaled a shaky breath, my hands clenching the blanket tighter.

I wanted so badly for Snowman to be normal, be someone I could see in the daylight and believe was kind.

Maybe that's why I continued to look, searching for parts of him in the features of strangers. In every man who walked into my life, I searched for the monster who had haunted my mind.Because if I could find him if he could be real, maybe I could fix him.

But that was an illusion, and I had to wake up. I couldn't love a killer, couldn't love a cop, and I had to find a way to love myself first, but that part of me was gone, taken.

"Bree," Thor said softly, drawing me back. He leaned in closer, his voice low and even. "Josh Johansson is the son of the chief of police. Are you sure it was him?"

My eyes dropped, but I nodded again, wordless.

Thor's thumb stroked across my chin, raising it so I had to look up at him. His face was solemn, not cruel.

"I believe you," he said softly. "But they won't."

His words hung in the air, a weight I couldn't carry. I knew what he meant, and that was this wasn't a town for people like me. It was for them, the Johanssons and the Lundqvists, those whose sins were buried under snow and silence. I swallowed hard, the tears threatening to spill again at the echo of Thor's words in my head. "They won't believe you."

But I had spoken. For the first time, I had spoken. And that would have to be enough.

I turned my head to one side, a tear welling silently down my face. "All my life I've been silent, and now, when I do finally speak up, you are telling me to keep my mouth shut."

"No," Thor said, crouching down beside me. His voice was soft, and steady, meant to comfort me, but it didn't reach me. "I want you to tell me everything."

I stared at him through the blur of tears.How can I ever trust anyone now?The question screamed in my head, much louder than his words.

My mouth opened; my lips were trembling, but before words could pour out, the creak of the door opening distracted me.

A man with ginger hair stepped in. Instinctively, my body went numb.

"I heard there was some sort of emergency," the man said, almost too casual to the point of light. He faced Thor, without giving any attention to me, "Could you call the doctor, detective?"

Thor's jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides. He looked once at me; his face was unreadable. Then he turned and walked out of the room. I watched him go, feeling a pit form in my stomach.

The man approached me, his movements slow. He sat down beside the bed, too close.

"Pretty," he murmured, reaching for a lock of my hair. His fingers curled it around lazily, playing with it as though it were nothing but a toy. "I spoke to the doctor earlier," he said, his voice low, almost kind. "He said nothing happened."

"But itdidhappen," I choked out, my voice cracking. Tears streamed down my face again, hot and relentless.

"No one will believe you," he whispered, leaning closer. His lips curled wryly and his eyes narrowed to blue slivers. Then he winked like it was some kind of joke I was supposed to laugh at.

I shrank back, further and further against the mattress as though to squeeze into its fibers and never come out again. I was shaking all over.

Make him leave. Somebody, make him leave.

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