Blomkvist tries to say her name to get her to look. Lifts a hand to try to point. She turns and glimpses the monster as he disappears out the steel door. Looks back at Blomkvist, still handcuffed on the floor, and, like a child asking a parent for permission.
Nothing in his life would allow him to agree to such a thing - until now. Now it’s as if her years of violence and degradation have been passed to him.
He nods.





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