I throw the hat and mittens on the shelf over the radiator, roll off the jacket and think it will be nice for spring when I can just have the thinner leather jacket again. I think of the picture I am about to paint at the picture school, that I have to finish it today, and then I go to the door. And I realize that this is the first time I have to open the door to the living room. Closed and white and repulsive. I press the handle down. The whole thing is a quick glimpse: Dad with an arm around Mom, the sound of sob, which I do not understand at all why I did not hear before. Dads face. Have I ever seen Dad cry?
- Is that you, Bella?
They look at me, pull me into a hug.
- Where's Hazel? I ask.
She was with Grandma. The medicine should help.
We thought. I thought. It just didn't. Just like when I thought Mom and Dad were always going to be there, and then Dad one day said he was going. Six months. Back then, Hazel was only a year. Karina interrupts my thoughts.
- I understand why you didn't say anything. It is also difficult. But fortunately, your mother said there were good prospects.
I nod.
-And now you're waiting?
I nod again. It sounds a bit like she wants to talk to me, but doesn't know what to say. It doesn't look like Karina.
- How are you, Bella? Is it hard to wait?
My throat hurts, I have a huge lump in my throat, and I can't say anything. So I just shake my head while trying to think about something else.
Karina puts her hand on my arm. I can feel the heat through my sleeve.
-You can always come, Bella. If you want to talk or have a hug. It's also a difficult time for your mother and father, and if you need to talk to an adult ...
We stand up at the same time. I go out into the hallway and into one of the girls' toilets. Karina goes into the teacher's room.
The board is wet. It is often, and it is never to be known whether it is pee or just water. Today it doesn't matter, because I'm not going to the toilet. I'm just standing. In front of the mirror. Just as I have done so often. Back then. Before the time started back and became Wait.
I see myself in the mirror. Slim and light I am. The spring sun has not really arrived yet, and I have not exploited what it has been like last year. Last year I sat out on the terrace in the sun, because I wanted to be brown. This year I'm just waiting. And I do that inside. In my room, in my bed, at school. Just waiting. I pull out to make it sound like I've been to the toilet and not just been out here for no reason. Before I unlock, I glance at the mirror. A shadow, fleeting, and in the cutting light on the toilet it is not dark, but yellow - yellow - yellow.
Then it's gone. Then he's gone.
My heart is sitting right up in the neck with the lump of crying. River and knock and make me cold.
Maybe the shadow was not there at all.
