Sofia Zetterlund and Gao Lian

Sofia Zetterlund and Gao Lian are bound by a hidden arrangement in which Sofia controls his access to the outside world while caring for him in secret. Their relationship joins intimacy to confinement: she can offer comfort and protection, but she also decides when Gao is concealed, left alone, or allowed to act.

The Hidden Room and Its Terms

Sofia keeps Gao in a concealed room behind a bookcase in her apartment. When she opens the hidden door, the room’s stale, fetid air reaches her; Gao sits in a corner with his arms around his knees, squinting into the light. Sofia closes the bookcase after checking on him, keeping his presence out of sight. The arrangement makes her both caretaker and gatekeeper: Gao depends on her for access to the apartment and the world beyond it.

Her care is not merely practical. After securing the hidden room, Sofia showers, wraps herself in a red towel, airs the apartment, lights incense, pours wine, and sits beside Samuel Bai, gently stroking his head as he breathes deeply and regularly. She thinks of Gao’s past as a child soldier in Sierra Leone and distinguishes the terrible things he did as a child from guilt, seeing him instead as a victim whose intentions had been untainted by revenge or jealousy. That judgment reveals the tenderness in her response to him, even as the concealed room and her authority over his movements place their bond under her control.

Violence, Secrecy, and the Police Inquiry

The arrangement between Sofia Zetterlund and Gao Lian is not simply a secret refuge: it also conceals his role in the killing of a child. When Jeanette Kihlberg visits Sofia and raises a witness’s claim that Samuel Bai had been seen outside McDonald’s at Medborgarplatsen with a woman the day before his body was found, Sofia’s thoughts turn to what Gao did to another boy. She remembers how easily he dismembered the child found beside the road in Svartsjölandet, and recalls that while Jeanette was with her, Gao was smashing the boy’s skull with a hammer. Afterwards, Sofia and Gao threw away the bone fragments with the remnants of a roast chicken. The juxtaposition makes the ordinary domestic setting part of their concealment: evidence of extreme violence is disposed of alongside the remains of a meal.

Sofia recognizes that Jeanette’s inquiry could expose the secret, and her immediate response is to think of lying, inventing a story, or going on the offensive. She voices uncertainty about whether joining the interview would be appropriate or permitted, but agrees to go with Jeanette. Her outward cooperation thus masks the knowledge she withholds, while the closeness of Jeanette’s visit to Gao’s violence heightens the risk that the hidden arrangement will be uncovered. Gao’s dependence on Sofia has become inseparable from her protection of him—and from the deception that protection requires.

Initiative, Dependence, and the Loss of Control

When Sofia Zetterlund discovers that Gao Lian has left, the concealed room has been cleaned: the coarse blanket is folded over the mattress, and detergent only partly masks the smell of urine. The syringes and bottle of Xylocain remain on the small table. Rather than feeling relieved, Sofia is irritated that Gao has acted without orders. His initiative unsettles the arrangement on which she has relied, and her fear rises into an uncontrolled outburst: she screams, cries, and pounds the walls until her arms go numb. The room that once confirmed her command now registers its limits.

Gao’s departure briefly gives him a life beyond the apartment. He crosses into Gamla stan, spends hours finding his way through its narrow streets, and builds an internal map of the city. But on returning to the soft, dark room, he finds the fair-haired woman lying unconscious on the floor, her eyes seeming far away. He kisses her feet, undresses, and folds his clothes as she has repeatedly taught him to do. Then he lies beside her and waits for the angel to instruct him. His new freedom has not dissolved his dependence: even outside the room, he remains oriented toward Sofia’s authority and approval.

Sofia’s response, when she thinks of Gao again, combines concern with continued control. She makes thin porridge, fills a Thermos, and takes it to him; he is naked on the bed, still distant, with his drawings arranged in a neat pile. She wonders what to do now that he has become more liability than asset. After setting the food beside the bed, she slides the bookcase across the doorway and latches it, leaving him to manage until evening. Care sustains their bond, but it does not make it equal: Sofia feeds Gao and worries about him while still deciding when he is confined and when he may emerge.

Care and Complicity

The relationship is structured less by mutual agreement than by Sofia Zetterlund’s power to define what Gao Lian may do and when. Her tenderness is real, but it does not cancel her authority over his confinement; likewise, her view of him as a victim does not prevent her from treating him as a liability when his actions escape her control. Care and control remain intertwined rather than resolving into either simple affection or simple coercion.

That contradiction shapes the reader’s access to their bond. Sofia’s private recognition of Gao’s innocence sits beside memories of his violence and her own efforts to conceal it, while domestic gestures carry the weight of decisions about secrecy and confinement. Gao’s independent movement unsettles the arrangement, but his return to waiting for Sofia’s instructions shows how deeply his dependence persists. Their connection therefore makes protection morally unstable: Sofia may feel responsible for Gao, yet the shelter she provides also keeps him hidden and leaves her holding the power to determine his immediate freedom.