In Yodlow it was snowing like confetti, although Christmas Eve was two days away. Fourteen-year-old Lena pushed her hat over her ears and climbed into the attic. Looking for lights, she found a tin star in a box, heavy and scratched. Grandpa said it used to hang on the town Christmas tree before it was replaced. When Lena touched the metal, the star twinkled with a rhythm that was unlike the usual twinkle. In the evening, the choir rehearsed carols in the market square, and the wind rasped the notes underfoot. The mayor inspected the new star for the top of the Christmas tree, proud as ever. In Lena's backpack, the old star pulsed with rhythm: longer, shorter, pause, and again. Maks put a small receiver to it and whispered: "That sounds like an inverted SOS". Lena swallowed her saliva and felt that the signal was indicating something outside the market. The trail led through the creaking snow to a former toy shop, 'U Pana Szklarza'. The shop window was frosted over, but a shadow shimmered inside, as if someone had moved a curtain. On the door handle hung a ribbon with a note: "Do not open until the first star". Maks looked sideways and pointed to a row of tiny footprints, as if of children's shoes. And next to it the footprint of a sled, imprinted freshly, although no one had ridden down the alley. Lena plugged the star into a small battery and pressed it against the glass. A map of Jodłowo flashed on the frost, and the spot moved towards the bridge. The countdown to the lighting of the Christmas tree came from the market square, and the phone lost its range. A quiet carol carried from the river, like the singing of one frozen voice. The ribbon on the doorknob moved of its own accord, and something sighed from inside. They heard a whisper, clear despite the blizzard: "Lena, come alone, time is really short". The lock clicked under their fingers, the door swung open a millimetre and all the lights went out. Fireworks flashed in the town square and the singing fell silent, as if someone had turned up the volume. The star in her hand grew heavy, as if filled with snow and sound. "Don't go," Maks whispered, but Lena pushed the door back an arm's width. The smell of cinnamon mingled with the metal, and an alien blue reflection flashed inside. Someone placed something on the counter, an invisible mechanism hooted and silence fell.