“No.”
Her daughter stood.
“I thought you were trying to help someone.”
“I was.”
Sofia looked at her.
“That’s what you keep saying.”
Helena had no answer that would improve the situation.
Sofia went to her room and closed the door.
Helena remained in the kitchen.
For the first time, she understood that her professional misconduct had entered her daughter’s life in ways no disciplinary decision could contain.
Part Five: The Verdict
Matthias Lindholm’s trial concluded in the spring.
By then, Helena no longer represented him.
She attended part of the final proceedings as an observer after obtaining advice about the appropriateness of doing so.
She sat near the back.
Annika’s family occupied the front row.
Ingrid sat with her hands folded in her lap.
Matthias wore a dark suit.
He looked composed.
When he noticed Helena, his gaze remained on her for several seconds.
She looked away.
The prosecution summarised the evidence.
The financial discrepancies.
The false and inconsistent statements.
The medical findings.
The communications between Matthias and Annika.
The timeline.
The defence challenged weaknesses and argued that the prosecution had not eliminated reasonable alternative explanations.
The court considered the evidence.
Helena listened without allowing herself the comfort of certainty.
She had once treated every weakness in the prosecution’s narrative as evidence that Matthias must be innocent.
Then, after discovering his deception, she’d been tempted to interpret every ambiguous detail as proof of guilt.
Both impulses came from the same weakness.
She wanted the story to have one answer that made everything else intelligible.
The law required a different discipline.
It required her to accept uncertainty where uncertainty remained and judgment where the evidence justified it.
When the court delivered its decision, Matthias was convicted of murdering Annika.
He remained still as the decision was read.
Helena watched his face.
For a moment, he looked genuinely surprised.
Then his expression closed.
She wondered whether he had expected acquittal.
Whether he’d believed his own story.
Whether the affection he had shown her had been entirely calculated or partly genuine.
She realised she might never know.
The conviction did not answer those questions.
It did not need to.
Outside the courthouse, journalists gathered in the cold sunlight.
Helena avoided them.
She walked toward the waterfront.
Halfway there, she heard someone call her name.
Ingrid Lindholm stood several meters behind her.
Helena stopped.
For a moment, neither woman moved.
Then Ingrid approached.
She looked older than in the funeral recording.
There were fine lines around her eyes, and she wore a dark coat despite the mild weather.
“I wanted to speak with you.”
Helena nodded.
“Of course.”
Ingrid studied her.
“I used to hate you.”
Helena looked down.
“I understand.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
Helena looked up.
Ingrid’s voice remained steady.
“You stood in court and spoke about my sister’s fear as though it was something she’d invented.”
Helena felt the words.
“I challenged the interpretation of the evidence.”
“Yes.”
Ingrid nodded.
“That’s what you called it.”
They stood in silence.
Then Ingrid continued.
“I know people accused of crimes need lawyers. I know the state has to prove what happened. I don’t hate you for doing your job.”
Helena watched her.
“I hated how certain you seemed that Matthias was a victim.”
The words landed with painful accuracy.
Ingrid looked toward the courthouse.
“Annika was a real person. She wasn’t an obstacle in your argument.”
Helena swallowed.
“You’re right.”
Ingrid looked back.
Helena continued.
“I lost sight of that.”
Ingrid’s expression tightened.
“She was frightened for weeks. I told people. I told the police. I told anyone who would listen.”
Her voice broke.
“And every time you spoke, it sounded as though her fear was just another problem you could explain away.”
Helena felt tears rise.
She did not allow herself to make the moment about her own remorse.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Ingrid looked at her for a long time.
Then nodded.
“I don’t know what to do with that.”
“You don’t have to do anything.”
Ingrid looked toward the water.
For several seconds, they stood together.
Then she walked away.
Helena remained on the pavement, watching her disappear into the crowd.
She understood that some apologies were necessary even when they changed nothing.
Helena’s professional sanctions were serious.
Her right to practice was suspended following the disciplinary process, and her role at Falk & Berg ended.
The firm continued under Erik’s leadership.
There were legal costs, damaged relationships, and a public reputation she could no longer repair through a successful appeal.
She sold her share of the office.
Moved into a smaller apartment.
Stopped attending professional receptions.
For months, she struggled to imagine a life that did not revolve around the authority and intensity of criminal defence work.
She had been a lawyer for so long that she had come to regard competence as the central evidence of her worth.
Now her competence was inseparable from a period when she’d behaved dishonestly.
Her therapist asked what she wanted to do next.
Helena stared at the floor.
“I don’t know.”
It was an unfamiliar answer.
She was learning to tolerate it.
Sofia spent most of that summer with Anders.
