Once upon a time, there were a boy and a girl. The boy was five and so was the girl. They were twins who looked nothing alike at all. The little boy, that was Klaas, had black hair like his father. The girl, Melissa, had blonde hair like her mother.

One Monday, Liesbet said to me: Wednesday evening we have to go to Jan and Marie’s, you know. Wednesday already, I cried. We had already talked about it once that summer, but I had never thought about it again.

No one was ever to notice that I had been in the barn. More corpses might not be buried there, but the people from the FBI Laboratory could still show up. That’s why I didn’t break the padlock with one of the tools for changing tires.

He is alone. The embankment is enclosed in the morning mist and the sheep that loom up stand motionless, except for one lamb that mewls softly, diving under her mother’s fur to find her nipples.

One day in late August, Liesbet and I, Arie, were taking a drive through the beautiful countryside of Drenthe. Our dog Jasper sat neatly in the back and looked out of the window monotonously. But when the ride got a bit too long, he started to whine softly. He just needs to get out, said…