To understand what was happening, the girl carefully peeked into the hallway. Standing in the doorway was her father’s sister — a strict, cold woman the girl had never trusted. But now the aunt looked different: tense, nervous, as if she were hiding something.

The strangest thing — where did she get those keys? No one had ever given her a copy.

The aunt glanced around, checked the rooms as if afraid of catching someone inside. Once she was sure the apartment was empty, she took the mother’s coat from the hook and quickly, almost harshly, stuffed something into the inner pocket. Then she pulled out her phone and said quietly: