The Full Route
Hanna had texted her mother before getting on the bus. *Going to ride the bus all the way to the depot tonight, then walk home. Will be home by twelve-thirty. Don't worry. Will explain.* Her mother, who trusted Hanna and who had also met Ole the bus driver several times and knew him to be a kind man, had texted back: *okay. text me when you're at the depot. love you.*
Hanna had also told Ole, when she got on: "Ole, can I — can I stay on past stop nine tonight? I'd like to see what the man at the back does. I won't say anything to him. I just want to ride the route."
Ole had thought.
"Hanna. You can. But — sit at the front, with me. I'm — I am not, technically, allowed to do this. But I'd rather you were near the front than near him. Please."
She had sat at the front.
The bus left at eleven-fifteen. The man got on at stop two. He nodded at Ole, paid, sat at the back. He opened his paperback. The bus rolled out of town.
Stop three. Two passengers got off. The man stayed.
Stop four. The man with the tan briefcase got off. The man at the back stayed.
Stop five. Nobody.
Stop six. The woman with the dog got off. The man stayed.
Stop seven. The two teenagers in tracksuits got off. The man stayed. The bus, after stop seven, was empty except for Hanna at the front and the man at the back.
The man, Hanna noticed, looked up briefly as they passed the small church. His face did