The library smelled of dust and rain, although the sun was still shining. Lena pretended to look for the atlas, but her heart was squeezed. Tomorrow she was to say a poem in front of the whole class and her parents. Mr Marcel spotted her between the bookcases and nodded to the back room. On the table was a small brass wheel with a moving pointer. "It's an unusual compass of feelings," he whispered. "They call it the Mood Compass." Mr Marcel handed her the wheel and whispered: "Would you like to try it, Lena?" The pointer twitched and stopped at the word: "Anxiety". The circle was warm, as if it had its own breath and memory. Lena thought of the morning's argument with Cuba and her throat tightened. "Remember, Lena," muttered the librarian, "it shows, but it doesn't decide." The compass pulled her hand between shelves full of maps and fairy tales. The pointer flashed "Anger", then "Sadness", like a light behind a fog. They stopped at a door with a painted moon and a felt curtain. Inside, there was soft light and the smell of scenery glue. An armchair rocked slightly, although no one was sitting on it. Behind the screen stood the puppets and the fox's eyes were wide open. The compass pulsed as if it could hear someone's feelings, heavy as pebbles. "Who is sad here?" asked Lena, although she was afraid of the answer. The pointer trembled and pointed to a box marked: Emotions Box. The lid moved of its own accord, made a quiet crack, and then....