Nadia stared at the yellow sunspot on the carpet. In her grandmother's house, everything seemed either very old or a bit enchanted. Even the air in the attic smelled of dust and cinnamon. That summer, Nadia and her cousin Kuba spent a whole two weeks at their grandmother's house. They ran around the garden, built shelters out of branches and ate gooseberries straight from the bush, but since the rains started, they wandered around the rooms in boredom. One afternoon, as the rain drummed against the windowsill, a clatter sounded from the ceiling. Kuba froze with a spoon in his hand. Nadia turned pale. - 'Do you hear that? - he whispered. Grandma was solving a crossword puzzle and only glanced at them from under her glasses. - Wind, children, wind in the attic. But Nadia knew it wasn't the wind. The sound repeated itself: a slow thud... thud... thud, as if someone was moving something heavy across the floorboards. That evening, as Grandma fell asleep by the book, the kids decided to check what was going on upstairs. With a torch that Kuba had surreptitiously taken from the kitchen, they stopped by the door to the attic. The key was hanging on a nail in the hallway. Nadia turned the lock with a hand trembling with emotion. There was semi-darkness in the attic. Everything was hidden under old sheets: armchairs with their legs cut off, a trunk smelling of lavender, a creaking bicycle. And somewhere, at the end of the room, stood a large wooden clock. It was the one making these sounds - but after all, it hadn't walked for years! Kuba came closer. The clock... was ticking. Just why? Or was there something inside? Suddenly the clock vibrated and there was a quiet whisper that might have been imagination, but maybe not.... A small blue light came on next to the clock face. Nadia and Cuba froze - should they come closer or run away? At that moment, the clock did something neither of them expected....