December, 2003

The view through your window was breathtaking. Everything was white, the snow was falling in huge flakes. You were huddled up in a blanket, holding a mug of tea, warming in front of the fireplace. You lived alone. You were a fresh lawyer, you loved your job and were extrémebb good at it.

Your cellphone was ringing. You found out through the call that you were assigned as a guardian. The girls name was Lisbeth Salander, she was 24 years old.

The next day you met her. She had short, apperantly spiky, Raven black hair. Piercings and earrings adorned on her face. Her eye makeup was dark, so were her chapped lips. She wore tight fitting t-shirt, bootcut black jeans, and a spiky leather jacket. Her expression was bored, almost hateful, her arms were crossed as she sat in front of you.