Victor has always said that the best coffee is made where the light of the morning meets the smell of fresh beans. For the past five years, he had worked as a barista at the small café "Under the Invisible Umbrella", located on a winding street in the Old Town. The café was small, but attracted a diverse crowd: students escaping everyday life, artists jotting down hurried ideas in thick notebooks, and elderly residents who had been coming here for decades to talk about everything and nothing. Victor was already well acquainted with the rituals of his daily visitors. Mrs Janina, the librarian, always ordered a double espresso and took it by the window, from where she could watch the passers-by. Tymek, the guitarist, could never decide on a flavour of cake, so he took two portions. But on that cloudy Thursday morning, things started to go differently than usual. Victor had noticed that for the past few days a young woman, whom they called in their minds 'Silence', had been appearing in the café. She never spoke to anyone, only ordered tea with ginger and sat right by the bookshelf. She had copper-coloured hair and always wore the same grey jumper. Her presence was barely perceptible, like the smell of lavender in the air. That morning, however, something had changed. As Victor was arranging the cups on the shelf, he heard the sound of a book falling. He looked towards the bookshelf and saw that 'Silence' was bending down to pick it up. A small notebook had fallen out of its pocket. Victor didn't want to be nosy, but the notebook opened on its own, showing a row of small drawings: keys, umbrellas, cups, doors that weren't in the café. Before he had time to get a better look at the pages, the woman quickly closed the notebook, and her gaze met his for a moment. Victor felt a slight shiver run down his spine. Strange things had started to happen that morning. When Tim reached for his portion of cheesecake, a piece of cake hovered in the air for a split second, as if moving in slow motion. The flowers standing in the vase by the window suddenly bloomed, even though they had been wilted just yesterday. And the doorbell, which had never worked, made a clear, crystalline sound as soon as someone crossed the threshold. At the end of the day, when the café was already shrouded in a grey-blue twilight, 'Silence' got up, walked over to the bar and left her notebook on the counter. "I left something for you between the pages," she said quietly and, before Victor could reply, she left, disappearing into the darkness of the alley. With a pounding heart, Victor opened the notebook to the first page. After a moment, he spotted an address written in pencil - one he didn't know, although he knew the entire Old Town almost by heart. He squinted, trying to remember if there was a hidden alley in this part of town. As a small silver key fell out of his notebook, he realised that something would play out that evening that would surprise him more than he could have imagined....