After lessons, Lena stayed in the school art room. She was eleven years old and had a full backpack. Inside rang the mood jar they had made during parenting hour. Water mixed with gold glitter and coloured ink. When Lena shook it, everything swirled like a storm. Her thoughts were swirling that day too: some shame, some anger, some curiosity. There was a rustling sound from the corridor, as if someone was moving a map. - Olek? - she called out, as he often waited for her after class. A familiar cap peeked out from a dark corner. - Here! - Olek pointed to the wall behind the old rolls. There hid a narrow metal door that no one had talked about. On a plaque were the words: "Entrance only with true feeling". Lena burst out laughing, but immediately felt a stinging sensation under her ribs. - What if it's a joke? - she asked. - What if they want us to be honest? - Olek shrugged his shoulders. They tried the door handle. It was as cold as ice. Lena hugged the jar to her heart. The glitter had settled and the water had darkened. - What are you afraid of? - whispered Olek, already a little more serious. She didn't know the simple answer. She was afraid of the test, of her own voice and of someone seeing the tears. The words stood in her throat like a cork. On the slate, the letters shone with a faint light. - I think it needs to be called aloud,' she said. The jar flared with a warm glow, like a belly torch. The handle stopped frosting her fingers. Behind the door something knocked, once, twice, in the rhythm of her heart. The air smelled of dust and mint. Lena took a breath, lifted the jar and opened her mouth, and then the lock suddenly vibrated and a narrow strip of light slid out from under the threshold