At the reception, I introduce myself as the photographer from the Milan photo shoot and explain that I'm here to clarify some open questions. None of it is a lie—thankfully. I've been to Milan. I've taken photographs. And now, there are open questions.
The well-groomed staff member types something into his computer. "I'm sorry. You're not registered."
I put on a remorseful expression.
He eyes me skeptically, then sighs extensively. "It's always the same," he mutters and waves me through. "Do you know where you're going?"
"I'll find my way," I reply and head confidently toward the elevator.
During the ride up, I can hardly keep my legs still. It's strangely stuffy in here too. I'm sweating, and my pulse won't calm down. And when the elevator doors finally open, I feeluncomfortable once again. I look around searchingly, spot a metal door labeledNödutgång, and head straight for it.
I swing it open and step outside. Lit only by the city lights, I spot Sky at the front, leaning forward with her hands on the stone railing.
She couldn't be...?
"Sky," I call to her as I run toward her. "Hey, it's me, Kjell."
She doesn't move, just stares into the abyss about fifty yards below her.
Breathless, I reach her, stand closely beside her, and place my hand on her back. She jerks her head around, and what I see in the next moment makes me flinch. Her eyes are empty, the corners of her mouth hang heavily downward. I search for signs that she has been crying but find none.
"Today, there are no stars." Her gaze roams unsteadily across my face. "No sparkle. Nothing. Everything is dark."
Everything is dark. Just like her. I can't help it; I cup her face in my hands and look deeply into her eyes. The warmth of her cheeks transfers to my fingers. "They're still there."
Her eyelids flutter. She presses her lips together and takes a sharp breath.Help me, her silent plea implores.
"What should I do?" My thumbs move instinctively over her cheeks. I can't stop looking at her.
She averts her gaze and nods toward the wide railing. Automatically, I glance over.
What is that?
Reluctantly, I release Sky to reach for the paper package.
A tortured whimper escapes her lips as I carefully unwrap the package. I hear her heavy breathing and feel her tension.
Fractions of a second later, I freeze.
"Is that... cocaine?" I ask in a hushed voice, looking at the white powder.
"Crystal." Sky whispers the word, yet a cold shiver runs down my spine.
I stare at the package in disbelief. "What do you want with it?" Okay, that was a stupid question, but I just can't get this together.
Sky and drugs? This is...
Now she wraps her arms tightly around her body and sobs. "I can't do this, I can't handle it, it's too much," she gasps.
"Have you taken anything?" I ask, alarmed.
She shakes her head—thank goodness!
Swiftly, I tuck the fabric into my pants pocket and step closer to her. "Is it because of the article?"
"So you've seen it too," she says nervously. "You know who I am." With trembling fingers, she scratches her forehead until red streaks appear.
I place my hand on hers to stop her and nod. "Is that why you...?"
