Truth Is The Biggest Lie

TRUTH IS THE BIGGEST LIE LEONIE HAUBRICH Translated by JUDITH FRÖHLING Copyright © 2023 Heike Fröhling / Leonie Haubrich Von-Lassaulx-Str. 16 56072 Koblenz Germany [email protected] https://writerontour.de/ Cover: © HollandDesign/Simone Holland; © [email protected], Shutterstock: Jeom.ac, ronnybas Imprint: Independently published All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for brief quotations used in a book review. CONTENTS Chapter 1 23 years ago Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 26 years ago Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 25 years ago Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 25 years ago Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 25 years ago Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 23 years ago Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 About the Author TRUTH CAN BE DEADLY … In the fishing village of Nusfjord in Lofoten, young Solveig discovers clues to a dark family secret: hidden sketchbooks and a photo of a woman who looks amazingly like her. What happened to the German student who disappeared without a trace 23 years ago? As Solveig digs deeper into the past, she is haunted by hidden threats and drawn into a maelstrom of lies and intrigue. With the help of Anders, a retired policeman, she embarks on a dangerous search. Little by little she gets caught in a dark web of betrayal, murder and secrets ... A gripping Norwegian thriller about love, loyalty and the painful search for the truth. 1 23 YEARS AGO The grip around her ankles was relentless. Sarah's vision was blurred. The surroundings seemed to consist only of black shadows. She was mercilessly dragged along over the wet, hard ground. Each impact on the rough stones sent waves of pain through her entire body, but she was unable to move or fight back. Her head throbbed and her thoughts raced and faltered at the same time. The sound of the sea and the salty winter air mixed with the dull pain that ran through her with each impact on the rocks. For a split second, her gaze cleared. The light from the sparse lanterns made the fishing village of Nusfjord look like an eerie silhouette. No one was out and about, no one who could come to her aid. The wooden huts were the only silent witnesses as she was dragged further and further across the stony ground. Winter had descended on the island of Flakstadøy, part of the Lofoten archipelago. In this season, the sun was only visible for a few hours.. The salty smell of the sea became so intense that it took her breath away. Salt water burned in her eyes. Above her, seagulls screamed like crying children. The waves crashed against the rocks. But this sound was always drowned out by the groaning of her own body as it hit the rocks. Sarah tried desperately to regain control of her muscles, but her limbs did not obey her. She was trapped, as if in a nightmare from which there was no awakening. Her breathing was heavy and irregular as she tried to resist the tugging at her feet. But every effort seemed in vain. Cold crept inexorably into her bones, moisture soaked the fabric of her nightgown. She shivered uncontrollably. "No," she wanted to shout, to beg for mercy. Instead, only a gurgling sounded, which seemed so far away, as if her soul, which perceived the scenery as if as an observer, had long since detached itself from her body. Suddenly, she felt her feet let go, and her legs slammed down on the sharp rocks. She was free. Someone cried out. Footsteps moved away and became quieter. The one who had been holding her panicked and hastily took flight. Sarah took a deep breath and felt immense relief when she realized that she was safe, at least for the time being. Now she was alone. All alone. She took a gasping breath and tried to sit up, but her arms failed. The floor she was lying on was too slippery, a warm red pool spread out beneath her. It took her a while to realize. She was bleeding. On the head. In the distance, she heard voices wafting towards her, but she could not understand the words. Exhausted from the futile attempts to rise, she lay helplessly on the ground, unable to move. Then Sarah felt rays of sunlight on her body. Sun. Light. Heat. She could no longer be in the village. The polar night had been over for a week, but the mountains still prevented the sun from rising above the horizon in Nusfjord. The warming rays of the sun on her skin gave Sarah new strength. She tried again to sit up and take a closer look at her surroundings. Her arms trembled with exertion, but this time she managed to push herself up onto her hands and knees. She really wasn't in the village anymore. Instead, she was on a hill from which she had a breathtaking view of the rugged coastal landscape. The jagged rocks and icy foothills of the sea stood in stark contrast to the peaceful image of the fishing village. The voices she had heard earlier seemed to be getting closer. Shadows moved at the edge of her blurred field of vision. She tried to make out their origin. The sun shone in her face and she blinked against the bright light she hadn't seen in weeks. Her heartbeat accelerated. Voices sounded again. She struggled with her fear and the pain as fragments of memory slowly surfaced. The argument. The words echoed in her thoughts. "You're destroying our lives!" The anger in his eyes. The heated discussion and the sense of threat she had felt. How she was then hit over the head with an object. The stabbing pain. Blackness. The memories