One ordinary morning, Zosia finds a red hoodie hidden in her wardrobe, and the room begins to shift in impossible, sparkling ways.
Seven-year-old Zosia lived in a small yellow house with blue shutters. She liked park walks with her dad, naps with her cat Fluffy, and towers of coloured blocks that only stood up if she built them just right. Still, her favourite place was the wardrobe. It was full of shirts, socks, scarves, and the chance of a surprise.
That morning, she was hunting for her favourite polka-dot blouse when her fingers brushed something soft and warm. Zosia pulled out a red hoodie she had never seen before. It was smooth as satin, smelled faintly of raspberries, and glittered in the morning light like someone had dusted it with sugar.
"Mum, whose hoodie is this?" Zosia asked.
Mum looked up from the kitchen table. "I have no idea," she said with a smile. "Maybe a good fairy forgot it here."
Zosia grinned. That sounded like the sort of thing that could happen in her house. She slipped the hoodie over her head. The hood settled around her ears, snug and soft. Then a tiny whispering rustled in her ear, like leaves talking to each other.
Zosia blinked.
The chair by her bed stretched and shimmered. Its legs grew long and arched high, turning into a little green bridge. Fluffy, who had been asleep in a sun patch, sprang up, leapt onto the windowsill, and gave a clear, serious meow.
"Zosia," said Fluffy in a human voice, "look under the table."
Zosia gasped so hard she nearly forgot to breathe. She knelt down and peered into the dark space under the table. Something was there. Something small and round, lying very still in the shadows.
Then, from behind the curtain, came a soft burst of laughter.
Zosia reached out slowly, her hand trembling, when the hoodie gave another whisper and the thing under the table began to glow.