Free The Drowning by Camilla Läckberg

back!’ Belinda came racing after Lisen, Dan’s youngest daughter, who hid behind Anna with a shriek. In her hand she was clutching her older sister’s hairbrush.
    ‘I didn’t say you could borrow it! Give it back!’
    ‘Anna …’ Lisen pleaded, but Anna pulled the child around to face her, keeping a light hold on her shoulder.
    ‘If you took Belinda’s brush without asking, you’ll have to give it back.’
    ‘See, I told you so!’ said Belinda.
    Anna gave her a warning look.
    ‘As for you, Belinda – you don’t really need to go chasing your little sister through the whole house.’
    Belinda shrugged. ‘It’s her own fault if she takes my things.’
    ‘Just wait until little brother is here,’ said Lisen. ‘He’ll break everything you own!’
    ‘I’m going to be moving out soon, so it’s your stuff he’s going to be wrecking!’ said Belinda, sticking out her tongue.
    ‘Hey, come on now. Are you eighteen or five?’ said Anna, but she couldn’t help laughing. ‘And why are the two of you so sure that it’s going to be a boy?’
    ‘Because Mamma says that if somebody has as big a rear end as you do, it’s bound to be a boy.’

    ‘Shhh,’ said Belinda, glaring at her sister, who couldn’t really understand what she’d said wrong. ‘Sorry,’ Belinda added.
    ‘That’s okay.’ Anna smiled, but she did feel slightly insulted. So Dan’s ex-wife thought she had a big rear end? But not even that sort of remark – and she had to admit there was some truth to it, after all – could put a damper on her good mood. She’d been to hell and back; that was no exaggeration. And her kids had too. Emma and Adrian, in spite of everything they’d been through, were now two very confident and happy children. Sometimes she could hardly believe it was true.

4
    ‘You’ll behave yourself when our guests arrive, won’t you?’ said his mother, giving him a solemn look.
    He nodded. He would never dream of behaving badly and embarrassing his mother. He wanted nothing more than to please her so that she would keep on loving him.
    The doorbell rang, and his mother stood up abruptly. ‘They’re here.’ He heard the anticipation in her voice, a tone that made him uneasy. Sometimes his mother changed into someone else after he heard the sound of that little bell vibrating between the walls in her bedroom. But that might not happen this time.
    ‘Can I take your coat?’ He heard his father’s voice downstairs in the front hall, along with the murmuring of their guests.
    ‘Go on ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.’ His mother motioned towards him with her hand, and he breathed in the scent of her perfume. She sat down at her dressing table to fix her hair and put the last touches on her make-up as she admired herself in the mirror. He stayed where he was, watching her with fascination. A furrow appeared between her brows as their eyes met in the mirror.
    ‘Didn’t I tell you to go downstairs?’ she said sharply, and he felt the darkness take hold of him for a moment.
    Shamefaced, he bowed his head and headed for the murmur of voices in the front hall. He would behave himself. Mother wouldn’t have to be ashamed of him.

The cold air tore at his windpipe. He loved that feeling. Everybody thought he was crazy when he went out running in the middle of winter, but he preferred to put in his miles in the frosty weather rather than go out running in the oppressive heat of summer. And on weekends he made a point of running his route twice.
    Kenneth cast an eye at his wristwatch. It held everything he needed to know to make the most of his run. It measured his pulse and counted the steps he took; it even kept track of the time from his last session.
    His goal right now was to run in the Stockholm Marathon. He’d taken part twice before, and in the Copenhagen Marathon as well. He’d been running for twenty years, and if he had a choice, he’d prefer to die in the middle of a race, twenty or thirty years