Julka discovers that her old wardrobe can talk, and the room’s other objects are hiding secrets of their own.
Seven-year-old Julka loved her bright room, her dolls, and her box of crayons. But the thing she stared at most was the tall wooden wardrobe by the window. It stood there every day, quiet and still, with its two heavy doors and a brass handle that was a little too shiny to be ordinary.
One evening, Julka reached out to close the wardrobe door. Just then, a tiny voice squeaked, “Ouch! Careful!”
Julka froze.
The room was empty. The dolls sat in a row. The lamp on the nightstand did not move. Julka leaned closer to the wardrobe and heard the same voice again, soft and grumpy. “I said gently, please.”
Julka blinked. “You can talk?” she whispered.
“Of course I can,” said the wardrobe. “But only when people are quiet enough to listen.”
A warm little glow clicked on beside the bed. The lamp gave a small, cheerful flicker. “He’s telling the truth,” it said. “We talk when no grown-ups are looking.”
Julka’s mouth opened in delight. “This is the best room ever,” she breathed.
The wardrobe gave a low creak. “Then you may be the right person to help us.”
“Help with what?” Julka asked.
“My favourite button has vanished,” said the wardrobe. “Without it, my secret drawer will not open.”
The lamp’s light twinkled. “And the button did not simply roll away. Something in this room knows where it is.”
Just then, from the far corner near the toy chest, came a soft rustle.
Julka turned slowly. The wardrobe door shivered. The lamp dimmed. And something small and unseen whispered again in the dark...