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too!”
    “Know what? Let go of me!”
    But Wilma held my wrist tight and I knew I had to meet her gaze.
    “What happened to Signe yesterday?” she said and looked straight into me. “Erland said that she had… I don’t know, that something had happened to her.”
    I shrugged.
    “Yeah, but that’s Erland.”
    “But I saw it for myself!” Wilma said, holding on to my arm. “She turned into a completely different child in the matter of half an hour.”
    “She did?”
    I could hear how daft I sounded, and Wilma just kept on staring at me.
    “Did Signe see something, Thomasine?” she said. “Did she go inside that wardrobe?”
    For a moment I considered telling her about the dream that hadn’t been a dream. But the thought alone felt like I was betraying something. Or someone.
    “Don’t tell anyone about the mirror, okay? Not even Kajsa,” I said, wriggling free. “Come on now, I’m hungry.”
    Uncle Daniel had bought dessert. A whole ice-cream cake from the freezer at the co-op. That had never happened before.
    “Do we have something to celebrate?” Kasja said after Dad removed the pizza boxes and Uncle Daniel plonked the ice-cream cake onto the dinner table.
    “Perhaps,” he said, putting down a stack of plates in front of her. “I saw an estate agent today. A neighbour of someone in my department.”
    Kajsa leant back in her chair and crossed her arms.
    “An estate agent?” she said. “Why?”
    Uncle Daniel sat down next to her. That was another thing he’d never done before.
    “To get a proper valuation,” he said, almost whispering. “You can’t really put a price on great big houses like this without an expert opinion.”
    Kajsa didn’t reply, but I couldn’t help myself.
    “Did you see an estate agent to ask how much you would get for Henrietta’s house if you sell it?” I said. “But it’s not yours, is it?”
    Uncle Daniel blushed and reached for the bread knife.
    “Where I come from a child doesn’t take part in adult conversations,” he said, hard-faced. “Especially when they run the risk of going without dessert.”
    I felt myself reddening.
    “I’m not a child,” I mumbled.
    Kajsa waved me aside.
    “So, what did they say?” she asked. “Were they able to give you a price?”
    Uncle Daniel left her waiting. First he cut a big chunk of the melting cake and let it balance on the knife above his plate. Then he cut another piece, slightly smaller, and placed it on Erland’s plate.
    “They have to see the house first, of course,” he said finally. “But Ove—the estate agent, that is—said that it’s common for a property as large as this to besold to a property developer. For offices, or to convert it into flats.”
    “But what does that mean?” Kajsa said. “What does it mean in terms of money?”
    Uncle Daniel pushed the knife and the plate with the cake towards Signe, glanced towards the door where Dad had disappeared, and turned to Kajsa again.
    “Twenty million kronor,” he said, and now he was whispering for real. “Perhaps even twenty-five with the right buyer!”
    Kajsa’s face didn’t move, but her fingers started drumming against her arm.
    “Hmm,” she said. “Minus the mortgage, of course, and…”
    “What mortgage?” Uncle Daniel laughed hoarsely. “There is no mortgage. Not a penny!”
    He spread his hands and smiled more broadly than I had ever seen him smile before.
    And yet he did not look happy.
    Signe was having trouble cutting the cake, and had managed only to destroy it. I reached over to help her, because I felt sorry for her, but also because I wanted to busy myself with somethingelse and hide away. Something about Uncle Daniel’s eyes almost made me cry. They were dead, in some strange way.
    Kajsa pulled the cake and the knife towards her as soon as I had served Signe. I didn’t have the chance to serve myself.
    “Have you talked to Thomas?”
    “Ah, Thomas!” Uncle Daniel rolled his eyes almost like Wilma does.
    “Thomas