The evening at Grandma Maria's house is quiet and dark. Hania is seven years old and sleeping in the living room. The clock is ticking and the wind moves the curtain at the window. Grandma pours tea in the kitchen behind the wall. "I'll be right back, darling," she says in a calm voice. Hania hugs her teddy bear and looks at the door. Suddenly, a soft rustling sound comes from the cupboard in the corner. Hania freezes and the teddy bear falls onto the carpet. "It's probably a jacket," she thinks, but the rustling comes back. It sounds like a whisper of leaves, very close to the handle. Hania takes a torch from her rucksack under the table. She shines it into the crack between the door and the floor. A narrow beam dances across the dark wood of the wardrobe. "Grandma?" - she calls out, but the kitchen is suddenly quiet. The ticking gets louder, like rain on glass. The cupboard door vibrates, though Hania stands far away. The handle moves on its own, once to the left, once to the right. Hania takes a step, very quietly, with her toes. The rustling turns into a knock, knock, very distinct. The torch flashes on and off and the handle presses. The cupboard door begins to swing open millimetre by millimetre.