Nina stayed after lessons in the school art room. Mrs Lila asked her to tidy up Lost's drawer. The drawer creaked like a board on a pier and shook the papers. Nina sighed and carefully reached for the first line. The ruler snorted: "Don't squeeze, please, I have delicate edges!" Nina recoiled, then looked around the empty hall. The clock was ticking, the chairs stood still and paint dripped from the brushes. The eraser sneezed chalk: "Please shake the dust off me." "Excuse me," whispered Nina, "are you guys really... talking here?" "And how are we supposed to be silent when everything is lost on us?" fumed the lineswoman. "I was left on the pitch," clanked a key with a cat-shaped key ring. A compass in a metal tin whirred and pointed to a curtained cupboard. "There's something wrong with the directions there," muttered the wall clock, beeping out of tune. Nina pushed back the stained curtain and saw an old, locked cupboard. The lock had a crack like a smile, and the handle was icy. "Don't open it," the umbrella trembled, "I don't like draughts from somewhere else." "Open," rustled the notebook, "my pages remember someone's important name." Someone knocked on the locker three times, slowly and very surely. The key moved on its own and rang, as if it recognised the tune. Nina swallowed her saliva and slid it into the lock for a test. All objects fell silent and the hands of the clock stood at twelve o'clock. The lock clicked louder than it should have, and the cupboard began to swing open....