Child sexual abuse

Child sexual abuse is a recurring source of trauma in the novel and a test of whether families, medical professionals, and legal institutions will believe and protect children. The accounts of Victoria Bergman and Linnea Lundström show different consequences of disclosure: Victoria’s injuries are documented while her father remains uncharged, and Linnea’s account emerges in writing that mingles her memories with Victoria’s.

Disclosure and Documentation

Victoria’s history reaches the police through medical examinations and confidential records rather than a prosecution. A report by the National Board of Forensic Medicine states that she had experienced extensive sexual violence between birth and age fourteen; an examination by a gynaecologist and a forensic medical officer found her severely harmed. The report could not identify who had assaulted her. A separate police report records that interviews placed the abuse at least as far back as when Victoria was five or six. These records establish the scale and duration of the abuse while also marking the limit of what the investigation could prove about its perpetrator.

Victoria does not want to report her father, Bengt Bergman, and regards him as dead to her. She says she could not face seeing him at a trial; her wish to have her injuries documented has other purposes. Sofia Zetterlund contacts Lars Mikkelsen after conversations with Victoria lead her to conclude that drastic measures are needed, including protection of Victoria’s identity from her father. Mikkelsen explains that Victoria would deny the allegations if charges were filed, leaving the authorities with medical documentation and circumstantial evidence. The separation between a record of serious abuse and a criminal conviction is therefore not presented as proof that the abuse did not occur, but as the consequence of Victoria’s refusal to testify and the limits of the evidence available to investigators.

Linnea’s Account and the Limits of Belief

Linnea Lundström’s account reaches Sofia Zetterlund in writing, on pages Sofia later reads back to herself. In Linnea’s blue-ink narrative, Viggo Dürer’s conduct shifts between apparent kindness during the day and abuse at night. Linnea describes being afraid to be alone with him, and says that the events left her at times unable to walk without help. She also recounts that Viggo warned her not to tell her parents. The account makes secrecy part of the harm: the child is left to carry knowledge that adults around her have reasons to evade or conceal.

As Sofia reads, she finds that the pages do not contain Linnea’s account alone. The final three are written in red and tell the story through Victoria Bergman’s words; details of Linnea’s experience mingle with Victoria’s own memories. Sofia recognizes some of what Linnea has said but cannot separate the accounts into a clear, complete recollection. The writing gives form to experiences that had been difficult to voice, yet its interweaving also shows how trauma can complicate the recovery of testimony. The record is neither a simple transcript nor a reliable resolution of every uncertainty: it preserves both Linnea’s disclosure and the boundary between what Sofia can recognize and what she cannot remember.

Legal Records and Institutional Limits

The case file places Victoria’s history within a changing legal framework. Lars Mikkelsen explains that when the abuse began in the mid-1970s, the offence was classified as sexual indecency with a descendant; the law was not changed until 1984. In 1988, the National Board of Forensic Medicine reported that Victoria had suffered serious sexual abuse before reaching physical maturity, and Nacka District Court granted confidentiality for her personal details. The court protection limited access to identifying information, while the medical record preserved evidence of harm; neither, by itself, established who was responsible.

The records also show that allegations concerning Bengt Bergman had appeared in earlier police reports. Jeanette Kihlberg recalls reports involving two Eritrean refugee children and another complainant. They form part of the investigation’s background, but the passage distinguishes the existence of reports from a proven finding against Bengt. That distinction sharpens the novel’s account of institutional evidence: documents can preserve what happened to a child and indicate that adults raised concerns, while still leaving responsibility unresolved and protection incomplete.

Disbelief, Abandoned Investigations, and Institutional Judgment

The contrast between documented injury and legal action recurs in accounts beyond Victoria Bergman’s. Lars Mikkelsen tells Jeanette Kihlberg that Madeleine Silfverberg, while receiving treatment in Denmark, repeatedly maintained that Per-Ola Silfverberg had sexually assaulted her and that other men were involved, with her mother, Charlotte Silfverberg, aware of what was happening. Her account was not accepted: she was regarded as psychotic and severely delusional and was heavily medicated. The narrative thus presents a further barrier to disclosure—not simply the absence of an account, but the power of a diagnosis to make an account easier for others to dismiss.

Jeanette also challenges a former investigator over the earlier Ulrika Wendin case. Gert Berglind had overseen the investigation into Karl Lundström, which was dropped, as well as the inquiry into Ulrika’s rape. When Annette Lundström supplied Karl with an alibi for the night Ulrika was attacked, the case was closed without checking whether the information was accurate. Jeanette’s questions expose a procedural failure that left an allegation untested and a possible connection between cases unexplored. Together, these histories show how family silence, a complainant’s discredited status, and inadequate investigation can leave abuse recorded in fragments while responsibility remains unresolved.