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JULY 22, 2014
In Eirik Jarlsgate 6 in Trondheim, the alarm on Frank Hansen’s silver-gray iPhone 5s wailed. The time was 05:30, and Frank just managed to stop it from falling down off the nightstand. His wife, Alexandra, looked at him with tired, blue eyes.
"Are you sure that it's a good idea to send her to kindergarten? She's barely two years old," said Alexandra.
Frank yawned and kissed her on the forehead.
"We agreed that it was for the best. I need to work, and you wanted to have a little time for yourself," said Frank.
"Yeah, but then I started to doubt it," said Alexandra.
"It will be okay, dear," said Frank.
Frank was already sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on his Diesel jeans and his white shirt.
When he entered Stine’s room, he realized how big she'd grown alread
