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Her boss nods. “But do it discreetly. If you’re wrong, we will be ridiculed.”
Yasira nods. “Of course. But...”
“But what?”
“What if I’m right?”
“Then,” says Timo, “we are going to have to buckle up. We’ll be inundated with these fakes.”
Steven Gebhardt looks at his watch and stands up. “Just keep your eyes open,” he says. “In all directions. It’s still just a theory. And even if Chief Inspector Saad has found a hot lead here, the best proof that the video is fake would be a living Lena telling us what really happened. So find the girl!”
With these words, everyone disappears back into their offices. Only Michael and Jenny remain in the meeting room. Jenny gets up and approaches Yasira.
“There’s something else,” she says, looking troubled. From the look on her face, Yasira thinks she can guess what it’s about. It’s not another video. It’s worse.
ZARA
“Today a photo of your daughter started circulating in the Active Homeland-Protection chats,” says Jenny. “I just came across it.”
Yasira closes her eyes, lowers her head and shakes it, as if this gesture of denial could change anything. “No, no,” she mumbles, “please no.”
“I’m sorry,” Jenny replies.
Yasira opens her eyes again. “Show me,” she says.
Jenny hands Yasira her smartphone. It’s indeed a photo of her daughter. She is sitting in the schoolyard next to two friends. Zara’s face is circled.
“These damn bastards,” curses Michael, who is now also standing next to Yasira.
“Who did this? Who took this picture?” she asks. “How did they find out that Zara is my daughter?”
But of course Jenny doesn’t have an answer.
“Don’t know,” she says. “Many possibilities are conceivable.”
“Maybe even a schoolmate,” Michael speculates.
Jenny nods. “Do you remember the teacher who was murdered by an Islamist in France in 2020?”
“Didn’t he show the Charlie Hebdo caricatures in class?” asks Michael.
“Yes. He was also ratted out by students to his murderer.”
Yasira massages her temples. “Damn it.” She feels a headache coming on.
Jenny attempts to take back her phone, but Yasira won’t let it go. Instead, she starts scrolling through the chat.
These scumbags even know her daughter’s name. She is correctly named as Zara Saad. The school address is also mentioned.
“Please,” says Jenny and holds out her hand for the phone. “Don’t do this to yourself. I’ll tell you what it says.”
Gently, Michael takes the phone from Yasira’s hand and gives it back to Jenny.
“How bad is it?” Yasira wants to know.
“There are no concrete plans,” says Jenny. “But there are...” she hesitates, “... mind games of...” she sighs, “... revenge rape.”
“What?”
