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She didn’t fight her ex-husband for her old home, she didn’t argue with her former boss about her job, she didn’t clash with their lawyer, didn’t fire any weapons, didn’t cause chaos. For the sake of the children. She did all she could to prevent any of the adults’ mistakes from affecting them. That doesn’t explain why she tried to rob a bank. It doesn’t excuse it. But maybe you’ve had the occasional really bad idea, too. Maybe you deserved a second chance. Maybe you’re not alone in that.

On the morning of the day before New Year’s Eve she left home with a pistol. That same evening, right now, she is walking back. A few hours after the hostage drama that the town will be talking about for many, many years to come, the mom picks up her daughters and asks: “Have you had a nice time at Dad’s? ”

“Yes, Mom! How about you? ” the youngest daughter asks.

The mom smiles, thinks for a moment, then shrugs: “Oh, you know… nothing much has happened. Everything’s been the same as usual. ”

But as they cross the bridge the mom puts one hand gently on her eldest daughter’s shoulder and whispers quickly into her ear: “You’re my princess, and my warrior, you can be both at the same time—promise me that you’ll never forget that. I know I’m not always such a great mom, but the fact that your dad and I are getting divorced isn’t you… you must never think, even for a single second that this is… your…” The eldest daughter nods, blinking away tears. The younger calls to them to hurry up and they run after her, their mom wipes her face and asks if they’d like pizza for supper, and the younger one cries out: “Do bears poop in the woods, or what?! ”

Just after they fall asleep that night, in their mom’s new home in the apartment of a kind and just-crazy-enough old lady called Estelle, the eldest daughter takes hold of her mom’s hand and whispers: “You’re a good mom, Mom. Don’t worry so much. It’s okay. ”

And there they find it, at last: peace for the realm between the two kingdoms. All the magical, wonderful, made-up creatures can sleep safe and sound. Monkeys, frogs, elks, old ladies, everyone.

The new year arrives, which of course never means as much as you hope unless you happen to sell calendars. One day becomes another, now becomes then. Winter spreads out across the town like a relative with slightly too much self-confidence, the building on the other side of the road from the bank changes color in line with the temperature. It doesn’t look like much, of course, a gray building under its temporary white covering in a place where no one seems to choose to live but merely tolerates being stored. In a few years no doubt one of the locals will point to the door and tell some smug visitor from one of the big cities: “There was a hostage drama in there once. ” The visitor will peer at the building and snort: “In there? Yeah, right! ” Because things like that don’t happen in a town like this, everyone knows that.

It’s a few days after New Year, and a woman is coming out of the door. She’s laughing, her two daughters are with her, and they’ve just said something that’s made them all laugh so hard that their noses are dripping amid the swirling snowflakes. They walk to the trash bin and dispose of a pizza box, then the woman suddenly looks up and stops mid-stride. One of her daughters starts to climb up her while the other one bounces up and down.

It’s getting late, the sky is January black and the falling snow is obscuring visibility, but she sees the police car on the other side of the street. Inside it are an older and a younger police officer. She stares at them, her daughters haven’t noticed her terror yet. All she can think is: Not in front of the girls. This takes a matter of seconds, but she manages to live two lifetimes. Theirs.

Then the police car rolls slowly toward her.

Past her.

It drives on, turns right, disappears.

“I’d understand if you want to bring her in, ” Jim says quietly in the passenger seat, worried that his son’s changed his mind.

“No, I just wanted to see her, so there were two of us in this, ” his son says behind the wheel.

“Two of us in what? ”

“Letting her go. ”

They don’t say any more about her. Either the woman outside the building or the one they both miss. Jim saved a bank robber and deceived his son, and Jack might perhaps never quite be able to forgive him for that, but it’s possible for them both to move on together despite that.

They drive through their town for several minutes until the father eventually says, without looking at his son: “I know you’ve been offered a job in Stockholm. ”

Jack looks at him in surprise.

“How the hell did you hear that? ”

“I’m not stupid, you know. Not all the time, anyway. Sometimes I just seem stupid. ”

Jack smiles shamefacedly.

“I know, Dad. ”

“You ought to take it. The job. ”

Jack signals, turns, takes plenty of time to come up with a reply.

“Take a job in Stockholm? Do you know how much it costs to live there? ”

His dad taps the plastic door of the glove compartment sadly with his wedding ring.

“Don’t stay here for my sake, son. ”

“I’m not, ” Jack lies.

Because he knows that if his mom had been there, she’d have said, you know what, son? There are worse reasons to stay somewhere.

“Our shift’s over, ” Jim notes.

“Would you like coffee? ” Jack asks.

“Now? It’s a bit late, ” his dad yawns.

“Let’s stop and get coffee, ” Jack insists.

“What for? ”

“I thought we could pick my car up from the station and go for a drive. ”

“Where to? ”

Jack makes his answer sound obvious.

“To see my sister. ”

At that, Jim’s eyes lose their focus on his son and slide off toward the road.

“What? Now? ”

“Yes. ”

“Why… why now? ”

“It’ll soon be her birthday. It’ll soon be your birthday. There are only eleven months to go before Christmas. Does it make any damn difference why? I just thought she might like to come home. ”

Jim has to stay focused on the road, the white line running along the middle of it, to keep his voice under control.

“That’s at least a twenty-four-hour drive, though? ”

Jack rolls his eyes.

“What the hell, Dad? I said we’d stop for coffee! ”

So that’s what they do. They drive all night and all the following day. Knock on her door. Maybe she’ll go home with them, maybe she won’t. Maybe she’s ready to find a better way down, maybe she now knows the difference between how it feels to fly and how it feels to fall, maybe she doesn’t. That sort of thing’s impossible to control, just like love. Because perhaps it’s true what they say, that up to a certain age a child loves you unconditionally and uncontrollably for one simple reason: you’re theirs. Your parents and siblings can love you for the rest of your life, too, for precisely the same reason.

The truth. There isn’t any. All we’ve managed to find out about the boundaries of the universe is that it hasn’t got any, and all we know about God is that we don’t know anything. So the only thing a mom who was a priest demanded of her family was simple: that we do our best. We plant an apple tree today, even if we know the world is going to be destroyed tomorrow.

We save those we can.

Spring arrives. It always finds us, in the end. The wind sweeps winter away, the trees rustle and birds start making a fuss, and nature suddenly crashes through with a deafening roar where the snow has swallowed every echo for months.

Jack gets out of an elevator, bewildered and curious. He’s clutching a letter in his hand. It landed on his doormat one morning, without a stamp. Inside was a note with this address on it, as well as the floor of the building and office number. Beneath that was a photograph of the bridge and another envelope, sealed, with another name written on it.

Zara saw Jack at the police station and recognized him, in spite of the years that had passed. And because she’s been living those same moments over and over again since then, she realized that he’s been doing the same.

Jack finds the right office, knocks on the door. Ten years have passed since a man jumped, almost exactly the same amount of time since a young woman didn’t. She opens the door without knowing who he is, but his heart turns to confetti the moment he sees her, because he hasn’t forgotten. He hasn’t seen her since she was standing on the railing of the bridge, but he would still have recognized her, even in darkness.

“I… I…, ” Jack stammers.

“Hello? Are you looking for someone? ” Nadia wonders, friendly but bemused.

He has to reach out for the doorframe, and her fingertips brush his. They don’t yet know how they’re capable of affecting each other. He hands her the large envelope, with his name written untidily on the front, and inside it are the photograph of the bridge and the address of her office. Beneath those are the smaller envelope with For Nadia written on the outside. Inside is a small note, on which Zara had written, in considerably neater handwriting, nine simple words.

You saved yourself. He just happened to be there.

When Nadia loses her balance, just for a moment, Jack catches hold of her arm. Their eyes dance around each other. She clings tightly, tightly, tightly to those nine words, but barely manages to formulate any of her own: “It was you… on the bridge, when I… was that you? ”

He nods mutely. She fumbles for more words.

“I don’t know what to… just give me a moment. I need to… I need to compose myself. ”

She walks to her desk and sinks onto the chair. She’s spent ten years wondering who he was, and now she has no idea what to say. Where to start. Jack walks cautiously into the office after her, sees the photograph on the bookcase, the one Zara always adjusted when she was there. It’s a picture of Nadia and a group of children, at a big summer camp six months before. Nadia and the children are laughing and joking, and they’re all wearing matching T-shirts bearing the name of the charitable organization that funded the camp. It collects money to work with children like the ones in the picture, all of whom have lost a family member to suicide. It helps to know that you’re not alone when you’ve been left behind. You can’t carry the guilt and the shame and the unbearable silence on your own, and you shouldn’t have to, that’s why Nadia goes to the summer camp each year. To listen a lot, talk a little, and laugh as much as possible.

She doesn’t know it yet, but the charity has just received a donation to its bank account. From a woman with headphones who has resigned from her job, given away her fortune, and crossed a bridge. They’ll be able to hold those summer camps for many years to come.

Jack and Nadia sit on either side of the narrow desk, looking at each other. He smiles weakly, and after a while she does the same, simultaneously terrified and full of laughter. One day, in ten years’ time, perhaps they’ll tell someone that was how it felt. The first time.

The truth? The truth about all this? The truth is that this was a story about many different things, but most of all about idiots. Because we’re doing the best we can, we really are. We’re trying to be grown-up and love each other and understand how the hell you’re supposed to insert USB leads. We’re looking for something to cling on to, something to fight for, something to look forward to. We’re doing all we can to teach our children how to swim. We have all of this in common, yet most of us remain strangers, we never know what we do to each other, how your life is affected by mine.

Perhaps we hurried past each other in a crowd today, and neither of us noticed, and the fibers of your coat brushed against mine for a single moment and then we were gone. I don’t know who you are.

But when you get home this evening, when this day is over and the night takes us, allow yourself a deep breath. Because we made it through this day as well.

There’ll be another one along tomorrow.

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