Mila Kwiecień was fourteen years old and had a weakness for building plans. In the school's technical theatre, she knew every hook, gangway and prop box. There was only one place she didn't see: the narrow alcove behind the left backstage. The older classes whispered about The Passage, which supposedly used to flash there. That afternoon, a storm rolled over the city and the rehearsal grew longer. Mila nodded to Jonah, they pushed open the heavy curtain and slipped into the shadows. Backstage they discovered a low service door, hitherto blended into the black paint. The hinges wept dust as they lifted them, revealing a narrow stone corridor. At the end, in a semi-circular niche, stood a metal ring, blackened like ash. Along the rim ran marks resembling constellations, sharp and finger-scratched. Mila touched the engraved Clock, and her silver pendant trembled against her skin. Jonah whistled quietly, as if afraid the ring would respond with a whistle. She remembered the card from her mum: When the pointer recedes by three, go. Just above the ring hung a forgotten stage clock, frozen at a quarter past three. Mila climbed onto the box, unscrewed the glass and turned the timer back three. At the same instant, the marks on the rim began to glow with a pale blue light. There was a cool breeze from the alcove, the smell of wet iron and distant trees. The noise was reminiscent of the sea let loose from behind, tangled with the ticking of a retreating clock. The surface in the rim undulated, like a curtain of rain, and showed a street without people. Lanterns shone vertically down there, and two pale moons stood above the rooftops. In the glass of light she saw the shadow of a child in a coat, unnaturally motionless. The shadow moved its lips, though no one made a sound, and formed her name. Jonah took half a step back, muttering: "Don't be silly, it could be a hologram." Then from that side someone knocked on the edge of the rim, three times, very clearly. The clock above them suddenly moved forward, the hand jumped and the diaphragm trembled. Mila held out her hand, felt the cold and heard a whisper: "Only you can pass..."