Erik lowered his voice.
“This is no longer about whether Matthias is innocent.”
“Of course it is.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“It’s about whether you can bear to discover he isn’t.”
The words landed with humiliating precision.
Helena turned toward the window.
Erik waited.
When she did not answer, he said he would not continue as co-counsel if the situation remained unresolved.
She looked back.
“You’re threatening me?”
“I’m telling you there’s a conflict you cannot solve by refusing to name it.”
He left.
Helena remained standing beside the window.
Then she called Matthias.
Matthias received Erik’s departure with an unsettling calmness.
They were sitting in his apartment.
Helena had arrived angry and frightened.
She expected sympathy.
He offered it.
He also offered something else.
“Maybe it’s better.”
She looked up.
“What?”
“Erik never trusted me.”
“He’s a good lawyer.”
“I know.”
“He helped build this case.”
Matthias nodded.
“But he doesn’t understand what we’re dealing with.”
Helena studied him.
“What do you mean?”
He reached for her hand.
“You’re the only person who sees the whole picture.”
She wanted to believe it.
There had been a time when the compliment would have made her suspicious.
Now it felt like reassurance.
She leaned toward him.
He kissed her forehead.
“We’ll get through this.”
Helena closed her eyes.
For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine the trial ending in acquittal.
Matthias free.
The scandal behind them.
Their relationship no longer hidden.
It was an impossible fantasy.
She knew that.
But she had begun preferring impossible futures to the reality immediately in front of her.
The first unmistakable act of misconduct occurred three weeks later.
Freja found an internal memorandum among the material supplied to the defence.
It concerned a witness who had seen Annika arguing with an unidentified man outside a Berlin office several weeks before her death.
The witness was uncertain of the man’s identity.
The information was potentially relevant, though its significance was unclear.
Helena reviewed it late one evening.
She understood that the proper course was to examine the evidence carefully, preserve it, and assess its relevance without exaggeration.
Instead, she allowed herself to imagine what the memorandum could do for Matthias.
An unknown man.
An argument.
A possible alternative source of fear.
The prosecution’s narrative might become less certain.
She instructed Freja to prioritise the lead.
That decision was defensible.
What followed was not.
Helena began presenting the witness’s uncertain recollection in internal discussions as though it were stronger than it was.
She omitted qualifications when summarising it to a consultant.
She pressed a junior investigator to interpret ambiguous information in the most favourable light.
When Freja challenged the wording of a draft, Helena became angry.
“The witness didn’t identify the man,” Freja said.
“I know.”
“Then we shouldn’t write as though he did.”
“We’re not.”
Freja placed the document on the table.
“You’ve described him as a threatening associate.”
Helena looked down.
The phrase was hers.
She could have corrected it.
Instead, she said, “It’s a working theory.”
Freja held her gaze.
“A working theory isn’t a fact.”
Helena felt heat rise in her face.
“Don’t lecture me about evidence.”
Freja went still.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then the younger lawyer gathered her papers.
“Of course.”
She left.
Helena remained at the table.
She looked again at the phrase.
Threatening associate.
It implied more than the evidence established.
She knew that.
For a moment, she reached for her pen.
Then her phone vibrated.
Matthias.
Are you coming tonight?
Helena looked at the message.
She put down the pen.
And left the phrase unchanged.
Part Three: The Man She Defended
The trial began in Stockholm in September.
By then, Helena had become a different lawyer from the woman who first opened the Lindholm file.
She remained brilliant.
She was still capable of identifying weaknesses in testimony, challenging unsupported assumptions, and exposing gaps in the prosecution’s account.
But she had begun confusing those abilities with a guarantee of her client’s innocence.
The courtroom was modern and restrained, with pale wood surfaces and large windows admitting cold northern light.
Annika’s family sat together near the front.
Ingrid attended every day.
She kept a small notebook and rarely looked toward Matthias.
Helena noticed her.
Then forced herself to concentrate on the evidence.
The prosecution described a marriage deteriorating under financial pressure and personal conflict.
They presented messages suggesting Annika intended to leave.
Witnesses described arguments.
Medical experts discussed the injuries.
Helena challenged the reliability of recollections, the limits of forensic interpretation, and the temptation to convert an unhappy marriage into a predetermined story.
She was persuasive.
Too persuasive, she sometimes thought afterwards.
The newspapers began predicting an acquittal.
Matthias looked increasingly hopeful.
At night, he held Helena and spoke about the future.
Berlin.
Travel.
A house somewhere quiet.
She listened.
Sometimes she believed him.
Sometimes, when he slept, she lay awake beside him,im wondering why he never seemed frightened of the trial anymore.
The first serious crack appeared during testimony from a former employee of Matthias’s Berlin company.
The witness described a disagreement concerning a financial transaction Annika had questioned shortly before her death.
