Arboga, Sweden, March 17th, 2008. It was a cold but typical night that month. Inside her warm home, a young mother was lovingly caring for her two children. Twenty‑three‑year‑old Emma Jungastig, mother to 3‑year‑old Max and 1‑and‑a‑half‑year‑old Saga, was having what seemed to be an ordinary evening. She was preparing dinner and waiting for her fiancé, Thorne Hellberg, to come home from work.

While cooking, Emma chatted online with her sister, Katarina. They were discussing plans for their parents’ upcoming wedding anniversary, exchanging casual messages as usual. But at exactly 7:07 p.m., the conversation stopped mid‑sentence. No goodbye, no explanation—just sudden silence. Katarina found it strange and sent another message asking if everything was okay, but there was no response.

Growing uneasy, Katarina tried calling Emma several times. Every call went straight to voicemail. A heavy sense of dread settled in; something felt seriously wrong. Desperate, she called Thorne, who was already on his way home. He tried to reassure her, suggesting Emma might have left her phone charging or become distracted with the kids.

When Thorne arrived at the house, his unease intensified. The front door was unlocked—something that never happened in their home. He stepped inside and called out for Emma and the children, but no one answered. The silence was unnatural, heavy, and chilling.

A cold fear gripped him as he moved through the house. Immediately, he noticed the place was completely trashed—furniture overturned, objects scattered everywhere. At first, he thought maybe the kids had gone overboard while playing, but the damage was far too severe to be a child’s mess. Then, at the far end of the room, something stopped him in his tracks.

It was Emma. She was lying on the floor, covered in blood, her face almost unrecognizable from the brutal blows she had suffered. Thorne went into shock, his mind racing, but one thought cut through the chaos: the children. He rushed upstairs to check on Max and Saga, panic taking over with every step.

What he found there was a scene no one should ever have to see. Max and Saga were lying on the floor, also covered in blood. Their heads and faces had been completely destroyed by vicious strikes. It was a nightmare brought to life—his entire world shattered in a matter of minutes.

Before we continue with the case, we need to go back in time to understand the full picture. Emma Jungastig was born on February 16th, 1985, in Stockholm, Sweden’s capital. From a young age, she didn’t dream of riches or fame. All she ever wanted was something simple: a family and a modest home.

For a while, it seemed like everything was falling into place exactly as she had hoped. At 19, she married her high school boyfriend, a young man named Nicholas. She believed she was taking her first real step toward the happy family life she’d always dreamed of. Some time later, their first son, Max, was born.

Max was a sweet boy with bright, alert eyes, and his arrival changed everything between them. The house became more exhausting, but also happier and fuller of life. About a year and a half later, little Saga arrived. With two small children, their hands were full, and their days were long.

What should have been a peaceful, loving home instead turned into a battleground. Immaturity, exhaustion, and constant daily struggles fueled arguments between the couple. Tensions rose, patience faded, and soon after Saga’s birth, they decided to separate. It was not a friendly split; it was tense and bitter.

Nicholas and Emma ended up in court multiple times, fighting over child custody and support payments. At one point, Nicholas told Emma he wanted to get back together. But by then, Emma had already made up her mind—she wanted nothing more to do with him romantically. She chose to move on with her children and leave that chapter behind.

Determined to start fresh, Emma decided to relocate. She chose Arboga, a small, quiet town of about 11,000 people, located roughly 150 kilometers (about 93 miles) from Stockholm. Arboga is the kind of place people move to for peace and calm. A place where bad things aren’t supposed to happen. That was about to change.

It was in Arboga that Emma met Thorne Hellberg, a simple, kind, and hardworking man. They met online, and very quickly, both felt a strong connection. At first, Emma was worried that Thorne might not accept the fact that she already had two children from a previous relationship. But Thorne didn’t hesitate for a second.

He embraced Emma and her children as a package deal. Thorne saw in them the chance to have the family he’d always wanted. During those first months, he treated Max and Saga like they were his own children. The kids warmed up to him quickly and grew attached, seeing him as a father figure.

For the first time in a long while, Emma felt she might have finally found the right person. Her relationship with Thorne began just one year after her divorce. Everything moved fast: they quickly realized they couldn’t imagine life without each other. After just two months, they bought a house together and began building a future.

They set their wedding date for the summer of 2008. Everything pointed toward a true fresh start, a new life far away from the conflict of the past. But that dream was brutally shattered on that winter night when Thorne returned home from work and discovered his new family almost entirely destroyed. Even in shock, he managed to call emergency services.

When paramedics arrived, they were horrified. The crime scene looked like something out of a horror movie—blood, destruction, and unimaginable violence. Yet despite everything, all three victims were still alive. Critical and barely clinging to life, but alive.

Emma and the children were rushed to the hospital and placed in intensive care. Doctors told Thorne their chances of survival were extremely slim. Even if they survived, they warned, it was very likely they would suffer permanent damage. While the medical team fought desperately to save Emma, Max, and Saga, detectives began working to figure out what had happened inside that house.

The more they examined the crime scene, the more disturbing the mystery became. There were no signs of forced entry—no broken windows, no damaged locks. There was no trace of blood from anyone other than the victims in the house. Nothing suggested a random break‑in or burglary gone wrong.

The only thing detectives were sure of was that this wasn’t a robbery. No valuables had been taken. Wallets, money, jewelry—everything stayed exactly where it was supposed to be. Nothing was missing. To the investigators, this made one thing very clear: this was a targeted attack. Someone had come specifically to wipe out this family.

The brutality of the attack spoke of intense personal hatred. According to the police, the murder weapon was not found at the scene. Based on the injuries, they believed it was something heavy, like an iron bar or a hammer. The attacker had delivered multiple crushing blows to Emma and her children, making absolutely sure they wouldn’t survive.

In their desperate attempt to save Emma and the kids, paramedics unintentionally disturbed large parts of the crime scene. Furniture was moved, objects shifted, blood patterns disrupted. This complicated the investigation, but under the circumstances, the paramedics had no choice. Even after a thorough forensic examination, Swedish police found almost nothing of significance.

There were no unidentified fingerprints, no foreign hairs, and no biological material that could provide usable DNA. Faced with this, officers began to theorize that the perpetrator was likely someone the family knew. The first suspect on their list was the most obvious: Thorne Hellberg.

Thorne had called emergency services at 7:20 p.m. Emma had stopped responding to her sister’s messages at 7:07 p.m. That left just a 13‑minute window for the crime to occur. Police theorized that only someone very familiar with the family’s routine could commit such a brutal attack in so little time and escape unnoticed. Everything initially pointed to an insider.

But Thorne’s co‑workers confirmed he had worked his full shift that day. On top of that, security cameras along his route from work to home captured him returning after his shift. The timestamps clearly showed that between 7:07 p.m. and approximately 7:18 p.m.—the likely time of the crime—Thorne was still on his way home. He arrived around 7:20 p.m. and immediately called emergency services.

Because of this, Thorne was ruled out as a suspect. Authorities believed it was very likely that, on his way home, Thorne unknowingly crossed paths with the attacker somewhere along the route. With Thorne eliminated, the second main suspect became Nicholas, Emma’s ex‑husband.

Police were almost certain the crime was personal. Nothing in the house had been stolen. The options were limited: either someone with a very personal motive, or a dangerous maniac on the loose. Following protocol, they focused first on those closest to Emma. With Thorne cleared, Nicholas rose to the top of the list.

Nicholas and Emma had a rocky past. They fought frequently, and their separation had been far from friendly. Emma had even filed a complaint against him for assault. To the police, it seemed plausible that Nicholas might have committed the crime out of revenge. But once they started digging into his whereabouts, the theory began to crumble.

Investigators found that Nicholas was in another city at the time of the attack. It was physically impossible for him to have been at Emma’s house when the crime took place. He was cleared of suspicion. Additionally, Thorne told the police that, as far as he knew, Nicholas and Emma no longer fought and had resolved their issues long before the attack.

Thorne also said he got along well with Nicholas and didn’t believe he would be capable of doing something so horrific to his own children. Police spoke with many people close to Emma: friends, family, neighbors, anyone who might offer clues. They hoped someone would reveal a hidden conflict, a grudge, or a threat.

But everyone said the same thing: Emma had no enemies, no one who wished her harm. The only name that came up was Nicholas—and he was already ruled out. With no suspects and no physical evidence, the investigation reached a frustrating standstill. After giving his statement, a devastated Thorne left the police station.

He was in such a state of shock that he couldn’t even drive. Emma’s father had to pick him up that day. The car ride was suffocatingly silent—neither man had words for what had just happened. On the way to the hospital, hoping to distract them, Emma’s father turned on the radio.

Instead of music, the local station was broadcasting a news bulletin. It was about the brutal crime in Arboga. The announcer spoke of the victims—Emma and her children—and how the entire town was in shock. Then came the words that shattered what little strength they had left: Max and Saga had succumbed to their injuries just minutes earlier.

Hearing that, both Thorne and Emma’s father broke down in tears. Their world, already broken, now collapsed completely. Not long before, those two innocent children had been playing safely in the comfort of their home. Now, they were gone. For the family, nothing about any of this made sense.

Because of the horrific nature of the case and the media’s attention, the Arboga police were under enormous pressure. They were stuck, unsure what direction to take next. Desperate for progress, they decided to re‑focus the investigation on Nicholas, even though he had already been cleared.

Nicholas was placed in preventive custody and brought in for questioning again. Having just lost his two children, he was in pieces. He trembled, cried, and seemed unable to concentrate. He was in an even worse state than the first time he was questioned, when he at least had hope they might survive.

It soon became clear to investigators that Nicholas was in no condition to provide anything useful. They re‑checked his alibi, his movements, and all available records. Everything confirmed once again that he was not responsible and had been elsewhere when the crime occurred. Nicholas was released, and the investigation hit another dead end.

The investigators still had no clear direction, while daily pressure from the media and public only grew. The town was anxious, and the country was watching. The only real hope left was that Emma would eventually wake from her coma and be able to tell them what had happened—though doctors warned that might not be possible.

The medical team caring for Emma was brutally honest with the police. They explained that if she survived, there was a high chance she would be left with permanent damage—possibly losing movement in parts of her body and her ability to speak. They also believed it was very unlikely she’d remember the attack, due to significant brain damage.

From the day Emma was admitted, a police team was assigned to protect her and the children. They feared the attacker might return to the hospital to “finish the job.” After Max and Saga died, the focus of the security team shifted entirely to Emma. They carefully controlled who went in and out of her room.

Meanwhile, fear took hold of Arboga and the surrounding region. Parents kept their children indoors. People avoided walking outside unless absolutely necessary. Doors and windows were double‑ and triple‑checked every night. Everyone lived with the same gnawing fear that a violent maniac might still be at large.

Even with no leads, the police refused to give up. Together with officers from nearby towns, they launched a massive door‑to‑door effort. They visited houses in Emma’s neighborhood and surrounding streets, asking residents if they had seen anything unusual that night or had any information at all.

They also broadened their search of nearby security camera footage. They had already reviewed the cameras closest to Emma’s house, but now they expanded the radius. Their goal was simple: track any suspicious movement near the house around the time of the crime. Meanwhile, investigators conducted another detailed sweep of the area around the home.

Because the murder weapon—most likely an iron bar or hammer—had not been found in the house, they hoped it might have been discarded somewhere nearby. They used tracking dogs and searched every corner, bush, and trash bin. Still, nothing turned up. Footage from more distant cameras also failed to reveal anything helpful.

Back at the house, another thorough forensic exam was conducted. It seemed nothing new could be found—until investigators spotted a small shoe print. It didn’t match the shoes of anyone in the family. Based on its size, they theorized it belonged to a child around 10 to 12 years old—or a short‑statured woman.

At first, the shoe print didn’t seem particularly important. It could easily have come from a visitor who had recently been in the house. Still, police documented it carefully—measuring its size and recording the sole pattern. While all this was happening, Emma continued to fight for her life in the hospital.

Days passed. The mystery deepened. The media covered the case daily, inviting security experts and investigators onto TV shows to speculate. Theories multiplied in public, but none of them helped the investigation. Everyone had the same question: Who could have done something so brutal?

Authorities and the media urged anyone with information—no matter how insignificant it seemed—to come forward. Eventually, a new lead emerged. A man who had passed Emma’s house around 7:00 p.m. on the night of the crime contacted the police with something he had seen.

He told them he had noticed someone standing on the sidewalk in front of the house, dressed entirely in black, with a hood up. The person seemed to hesitate at the door, as if unsure about going in. A few minutes later, the man went to the supermarket and then returned by the same route.

Roughly ten minutes had passed. As he passed the house again, he saw the same hooded figure running out of Emma’s front door. The person sprinted to a car and jumped in. The car sped away almost immediately. It happened so fast that the witness couldn’t see the person’s face or identify the car model.

However, there was one detail he was absolutely sure about: the person was a woman. This was the first solid, independent clue the investigators had received. For the first time, the case took a clear new direction. It now seemed very likely that the attacker was female.

From that point on, detectives began cross‑checking names, alibis, and relationships of all the women connected to Emma and her circle. If a woman had committed the crime, they reasoned, she likely wasn’t a stranger. While police followed this new lead, hope at the hospital flickered back to life.

Emma’s condition, though still critical and in a coma, began to show slight improvements. They were subtle—tiny changes in brain activity, responsiveness—but for the medical team and her family, they meant everything. Ten days after the attack, on March 27th, doctors decided it was time to slowly try waking her from the induced coma.

They began gradually reducing her sedatives, allowing her body and brain to readjust. It was a delicate process, with no guarantees. The entire country, and especially Emma’s loved ones, hoped she would wake and be able to communicate. Finally, the moment came: Emma opened her eyes.

At first, she couldn’t speak. She communicated only with her eyes, following movement, responding to familiar faces. Everything had to be handled with extreme care. The emotional shock of what she had lost could be dangerous for her fragile state. Doctors were firm: no one was allowed to tell her about her children—not yet.

Authorities decided to wait three days after she woke before attempting to question her. When those three days passed, detectives entered her room and carefully tried to talk to her. But the worst‑case scenario unfolded: Emma remembered nothing.

She looked at the detectives with confusion and growing desperation. She had no idea what had happened. She kept asking about her children—where were Max and Saga? Were they okay? Faced with this, doctors realized they could no longer hide the truth. They had reached the limit of what could be withheld.

Emma was told the most devastating news of her life: her children were dead. She was crushed. She refused to believe it at first, insisting it must be a nightmare. But slowly, painfully, she had to accept that it was real. Then, on April 1st, the breakthrough everyone had been hoping for finally came.

Emma began to remember what had happened that night. She told police that while she was chatting online with her sister, someone knocked on the door. She went to open it and came face to face with a hooded figure dressed entirely in black. The visitor said only one thing: her name was “Tina.”

Without warning, the woman struck Emma with a powerful, precise blow using a hammer. Emma said that as soon as the hammer hit her, she lost all sense and dropped where she stood in the hallway. That was all she remembered—but it was enough. It confirmed what the witness had said: the attacker was a woman.

After that, police showed Emma a series of photographs of different women they considered possible suspects. Among those photos was a woman named Christine Schürrer. The moment Emma saw her picture, she didn’t hesitate. She pointed immediately and said: “This was the woman who knocked on my door that day.”

But who was this woman? And why would she do something so unspeakable to a family she barely knew? Christine Schürrer was born in Germany and was 31 years old at the time of the crime. Her childhood had been troubled; when she was 11, her father abandoned the family, leaving a deep emotional wound.

Those who knew her described her as someone who lived intensely and restlessly. She had lived in New York, Greece, and other places, working in archaeological digs and hotels. She hated staying in one place for too long and was always searching for something new. On the surface, people saw her as cultured and adventurous.

But behind that image was a very different personality: controlling, possessive, and vengeful. Her relationships followed a clear pattern—fast, intense, and usually ending badly. She struggled to maintain anything healthy for long. She also couldn’t handle rejection, something psychologists later linked to the trauma of her father’s abandonment.

In August 2006, while working in Greece, Christine met a Swedish man on vacation. His name was Thorne. Yes—the same Thorne who would later be engaged to Emma. At the time, he was staying at the hotel where Christine worked. They quickly got involved in a brief, five‑day romance.

When Thorne’s vacation ended, he returned to Sweden. They kept in touch long distance, and Christine, already emotionally invested, didn’t want to wait. Sometime later, she flew to Sweden unannounced to visit him. Thorne was caught off guard; he hadn’t invited her, but out of politeness, he let her stay at his place.

Over time, Thorne realized Christine wasn’t who he thought she was. Her controlling and possessive tendencies began to surface. She argued over small things and made constant emotional demands, even though their relationship was still relatively new. After five months of this, Thorne decided to end the relationship.

He broke up with her over the phone while she was back in Germany dealing with personal matters. He told her he didn’t want her to return to Sweden to see him again. Christine was furious. She had planned to fix her situation and then come back to be with him; instead, she was rejected and shut out.

She refused to accept the breakup. She started sending Thorne countless messages, pressuring him to reconsider. He blocked her number. She got a new one and continued contacting him. The harassment was relentless. Eventually, Thorne realized he would have to change his phone number entirely to get any peace.

When Christine discovered that Thorne had changed his number, she switched tactics. She began sending letters directly to his home. In them, she begged for a second chance and declared her love. She was desperate to win back a man who had already emotionally moved on.

In March 2007, she appeared once again in Sweden without warning and convinced Thorne to go out to dinner. They hadn’t been in contact for some time and had no relationship at that point, but Thorne agreed to meet as friends. During the dinner, however, Christine pressured him intensely to get back together.

She told him this was his “last chance” to save what they had. Thorne stayed firm and made it clear he wanted nothing more with her. He told her to move on and forget about him. Sources say that by then, Thorne and Emma had already met and were at the beginning stages of their relationship.

Reluctantly, Christine pretended to accept his decision and left after dinner. The next day, she called him saying she was lost. She claimed she was trying to return to her country but had gotten lost near a castle. Thorne, worried for her safety, decided to help, since he knew the area.

When he arrived, he was shocked by what he saw. Christine was unconscious in her car, having taken a large quantity of pills in an apparent suicide attempt after his final rejection. Thorne rushed her to the hospital. Deeply concerned, he realized leaving her alone would be dangerous.

After she was stabilized, he drove her to her parents’ home in Germany and told them what had happened. He urged them to get her admitted, explaining she was a danger to herself. He was right. Christine was a danger—to herself, and, as it would turn out, an even greater danger to others.

She was hospitalized for three weeks in a psychiatric clinic. But nothing really changed. The following summer, in 2007, Christine returned to Sweden once again—this time to stay. She moved to Stockholm without informing Thorne. He had no idea she was living in the same country.

In February 2008, just a month before the attack in Arboga, Christine reached out to Thorne again—with shocking news. She told him she had a child by him. According to her story, she had become pregnant during their relationship and, due to her mental state and the breakup, had decided to give the baby up for adoption.

Thorne was stunned and confused. He immediately tried to verify her claims by doing some quick math. The dates didn’t add up. There was no way Christine could have been pregnant with his child and gone through a full pregnancy and adoption in that time frame. When he pressed her for details—like the baby’s exact birth date or place—she dodged the questions.

She insisted that those details weren’t important. Thorne, already suspicious, became convinced the story was made up. Christine didn’t stop there. She told him their supposed child had a genetic blood disease and warned that the adoptive parents might contact him at any time. The story became more dramatic, but no more believable.

By that time, Thorne was already living with Emma and her two children in Arboga. Their relationship was serious, and they were planning a future together. When Christine learned this, she pretended to be okay with it, claiming she had accepted that she and Thorne were over. In reality, her jealousy and resentment only grew.

Emma knew the entire history between Thorne and Christine because he had been open with her. She agreed that Christine’s “child” story sounded far‑fetched and manipulative. In the following days, Thorne continued asking Christine for specific information about the supposed child. Her answers remained evasive, often disconnected and nonsensical.

Thorne asked where the baby had been born, hoping to check hospital records if she gave a real location. But Christine kept avoiding the question, repeating that the details didn’t matter. It became obvious she was inventing the story to manipulate him and buy time, hoping to get him back.

Thorne had no interest in returning to her. He was happy with Emma and focused on their life together. He decided it was best to cut off all contact with Christine once and for all. He told her firmly to move on and leave him alone. He was building a family with someone else now.

Christine pretended to accept this final rejection. But inside, she was consumed by hatred. She felt abandoned, humiliated, and replaced. According to experts, her unresolved issues around abandonment and control boiled over. In her mind, she made a promise: she would not be left again. She would take revenge.

The police only seriously considered Christine a suspect after Thorne mentioned her in his statement. He initially described her simply as an ex who was “a bit crazy.” He didn’t bring her up until after police told him the attacker might be a woman. Before that, it hadn’t even occurred to him that she could be involved.

Thorne knew Christine had problems, but he never imagined she’d be capable of something so monstrous. He assumed she had gone back to Germany, since she hadn’t contacted him again. He had no idea she had been quietly living in Sweden, watching, waiting, and planning.

Once Thorne told the authorities about Christine Schürrer, they quickly began investigating her. It didn’t take long to connect dots: her obsession, her behavior, her history. Then came the moment in the hospital when Emma identified her photo without hesitation. That was the confirmation police needed.

After Emma pointed her out as the attacker, the authorities moved fast. News that Christine Schürrer had been identified by the only surviving victim spread quickly across Sweden. Newspapers covered the story extensively. People celebrated that the culprit behind the horrific Arboga attack had finally been found.

Christine was arrested shortly afterward in Germany and extradited to Sweden. In her first statement to police, she denied everything. She claimed she had nothing to do with the crime and insisted she was being falsely accused. Investigators searched an apartment she had rented in Sweden and found several important items.

Among her belongings were clothes, phones, and, most significantly, her laptop. They also found a coat that matched the description given by the witness who had seen a hooded figure outside Emma’s house on the night of the crime. The coat was sent for forensic testing.

Surprisingly, the coat showed no traces of blood, hair, or other biological material from the victims. Police believed that, given the brutality of the attack, the garment must originally have been soaked in blood. Their conclusion: Christine had meticulously cleaned it. She left nothing visible behind on the fabric.

But she hadn’t been as careful with her digital traces. On her laptop, investigators found a mountain of incriminating material. There were multiple photos of Emma and her children, taken from different angles and at different times. They also found a detailed floor plan of Emma and Thorne’s house, with disturbing notes about the interior layout.

Her search history was equally damning. She had obsessively monitored Emma’s social media accounts. She had looked up information on how to cover up a crime, how to erase traces, how to avoid leaving evidence behind. Christine wasn’t just jealous—she was fixated.

In the apartment, police also found a diary. Page after page, Christine had written about her hatred toward Emma and her children. The diary contained the family’s address, details on the children’s routines, and records of the times Emma and Thorne left for and returned from work. Every detail was logged, day after day.

It was clear she had been gathering information for a long time. The attack was not impulsive—it was fully planned and premeditated. Christine had never truly moved on from Thorne’s rejection. With every passing day, her hatred and resentment sharpened into something cold and dangerous.

She was determined to destroy Thorne’s life. And in her twisted logic, if she couldn’t have him, no one else would either. On top of everything else, a shoe found in her apartment matched the shoe print left at the crime scene. And security footage from the Arboga train station captured Christine arriving in the city and leaving it on the same day as the crime.

With all of this evidence, plus Emma’s identification, investigators knew that even if Christine never confessed, they had more than enough to build a strong case against her. Three months after the crime, on July 29th, 2008, Christine Schürrer’s trial began.

Everyone in the courtroom was stunned by her behavior. She appeared indifferent to the seriousness of the accusations. She showed no concern for her victims or the consequences she faced. She waved and smiled at people in the courtroom as if she were at a casual event rather than on trial for a double murder and attempted murder.

When the prosecution displayed photos of the crime scene on the screen—including images of Max and Saga before and after the attack—Christine began laughing out loud. Her reaction horrified the courtroom. People wondered whether she was simply unimaginably cold or suffering from some kind of mental disorder.

Seeing an opportunity, her defense requested a psychiatric evaluation to determine whether she was mentally competent. It’s important to note that Christine had previously been hospitalized following her suicide attempt. Before the trial, authorities had already tried to have her evaluated, but she had refused to cooperate.

Given her disturbing behavior in court, many assumed she might be mentally ill. However, when the evaluation was finally conducted, the results shocked everyone. It was confirmed that Christine was completely sane. She was fully aware of her actions and their consequences.

This revelation stunned the public. The idea that someone could carry out such a calculated, brutal crime and still be psychologically sound was terrifying. It meant she wasn’t driven by delusion, but by cold, deliberate cruelty. Even as the trial progressed and the evidence piled up, Christine continued to deny any involvement.

She mocked the situation, refused to accept responsibility, and showed no remorse. Her defense argued that the evidence against her was circumstantial and unreliable. They pointed out that there was no DNA from Christine at the crime scene and no DNA from the victims on her clothes. They also emphasized that the murder weapon had never been found.

According to the defense, without DNA and without the weapon, there could be no solid proof she had committed the crime. The prosecution responded by calling a key witness: a woman who had shared an apartment with Christine during her time in Sweden. This witness turned out to be crucial.

She testified that she owned a toolkit and that one day, when she needed it, she realized her hammer was missing. She searched the apartment and asked Christine about it, but the hammer was nowhere to be found. Christine claimed she had no idea where it had gone. The witness then pointed out something chilling: the hammer had disappeared around the same time as the Arboga attack.

To the prosecution, this was no coincidence. Combined with everything else, they believed that this missing hammer was the likely murder weapon. The full case against Christine was built on several pillars: Emma’s eyewitness testimony, the witness who saw a woman in black at the house, the former roommate’s missing hammer, the shoe print, the train station footage, and the damning contents of her laptop and diary.

Over 40 people testified in court. The prosecution presented dozens of photos of Emma and her children found on Christine’s computer. They showed the detailed floor plans and her morbid research history about hiding crimes. They showed that the footprint at the crime scene matched a pair of sneakers found in her apartment.

During the trial, something else happened. As Emma sat in the courtroom and saw Christine in person, fragments of memory began returning. She remembered more details of the attack: opening the door, being struck, collapsing, trying in vain to get back up while Christine continued hitting her. She recalled the horror of realizing she couldn’t protect her children.

Her testimony was powerful and heartbreaking. It confirmed what the evidence already strongly suggested: Christine had come to that house with one goal—to destroy that family. Given the overwhelming amount of proof, the jury had no doubts.

They unanimously found Christine Schürrer guilty on all charges: the murders of Max and Saga and the attempted murder of Emma. Christine was sentenced to life in prison, with no possibility of parole. She was also ordered to pay 100,000 Swedish kronor—around $9,000—in compensation to Emma.

Christine’s defense team attempted to appeal the verdict, but the court rejected their request. In March 2012, she was transferred to a women’s prison in Vechta, Germany, to serve the remainder of her sentence. She has never admitted guilt.

Emma’s recovery was slow and excruciating. Her physical wounds eventually healed, but the emotional scars will likely never truly fade. With Thorne’s constant support, she slowly began to rebuild her life. Step by painful step, she learned to live with the unthinkable loss of her two children.

Nicholas, too, tried to move forward. He eventually remarried and had a daughter named Mireli. In 2010, Emma and Thorne got married, honoring the wedding plans they had once made before everything fell apart. They later had two more children together, who grew up learning about the older siblings they never got to meet.

Little by little, the family found ways to move forward without ever forgetting. The horror of that night in Arboga would always be part of their story—but so would their resilience.