.....Another knock on the door forced me to move. I quickly lifted my head from my pillow. I held my breath. Then... a third knock. Stronger, louder, and closer, as if the one knocking was waiting for someone to move. I calmly approached the door and opened a small crack. I saw Szymon on the other side of the hallway, peeking his head out. I whispered to him:
— "What's going on?"
He shook his head, "I don't know."
In the depths of the hallway, Magda appeared... barefoot, walking slowly as if gliding between worlds. She was holding something... something shiny. A knife? Perhaps. I don't know.
She moved closer to the door, and we followed her quietly, watching her breaths in silence. Suddenly, an envelope slipped from under the door... as if it had slid from the fingers of a ghost.
Magda stopped in her place, shivered, and then shouted:
— "Who's there?! Who's there?!"
Then silence.
A tremor and anticipation. She bent down, picked up the envelope, and read it in a trembling voice:
"If you're waiting for me... don't search for me, because I am dead. It's over."
Magda screamed:
— "Jan! Jan!"
She opened the door violently, ran outside. The ground was muddy, and the cold stung her feet. She screamed from the depths as if she had lost her shadow forever.
Voices overlapped, the children woke up, some started crying in fear, and Madame Mir arrived quickly:
— "Madame, what's happening?!"
Magda fell to the ground, her hands sinking into the mud, and her tears mixed with the dirt.
— "Oh my God... Oh my God..."
Mir grabbed her, helped her up, and brought her inside. Her appearance was pitiful. The children looked at her, then at the envelope that Mir picked up from the ground.
But Magda snatched the envelope roughly and shouted:
— "Go back to your places, you fools!"
Then she rushed to her office and slammed the door shut. Whispers started spreading among us:
"Was that Jan?"
"Why didn't he come in? Was he really here?"
I looked at Zuzanna, she was pale... still... Szymon tried to calm her down. Then, Filip ordered everyone:
"Come on, go back to sleep."
The voices began to fade... as if we had returned to the beginning of the night, but no one among us slept. We really wanted to know what was in the envelope... but there was no way to find out.
A heavy silence filled the room, broken by Zuzanna's quiet, hesitant voice:
— "Could it be... Jan?"
Szymon replied, crossing his arms:
— "If it were him, he would have come in to see us."
Zuzanna said softly, as if clinging to any possibility:
— "What if he was in danger... that's why he's hiding?"
Szymon shook his head:
— "He wouldn't have kept quiet. If he needed help, he would have asked us."
Zuzanna seemed to believe his words, or perhaps she was just looking for something to calm her worried heart. As for me... I was watching Szymon, knowing the truth.
There, behind the closed office door, Magda sat on her chair, her hand trembling as she opened the envelope. What she saw was shocking... pictures. Pictures of the private investigator... dead.
She gasped silently, pressing her hands to her mouth to stop herself from screaming again. The images were clear... the investigator's body, thrown in a horrific manner.
Yes, he was killed. But not just because he was investigating Jan's case… but because he got too close to a bigger case.
A case that was going to be opened... but was closed forever before a single word could be spoken in it.
***In the morning, the feeling that something terrible was coming wouldn't leave me...
What made it worse was the presence of that stranger... Bach.
He entered with a suspicious calmness and asked Mir for a cup of coffee.
His gaze was cold, and his filthy eyes wandered around the place, searching for something... or someone.
Magda was surprised by his presence, but didn't show it.
She walked over, sat in front of him, and asked for a coffee herself.
Bach spoke with a faint smile, his eyes still following Zuzanna's movements while addressing Magda:
— "You look ready to head out... Do you have an appointment?"
Suddenly, without warning, Magda shouted at Zuzanna:
— "You! What are you waiting for? Get ready now!"
Mir stepped in, visibly confused and annoyed:
— "But… why Zuzanna?"
Magda hesitated, as if searching for an excuse... then said coldly:
— "Not just her… this one too." (She pointed at me.)
— "Me?"
— "Yes. Didn't I ask you to get ready an hour ago?"
There was something odd in her voice—as if she were hiding something, avoiding Bach's eyes, trying to soothe the anger that had begun to burn in his stare as he awaited her answer.
I said quietly:
— "Sorry… I lost one of my shoes."
She raised her cup, took a sip, and finally replied to Bach's question in a calm tone:
— "I have some errands to run...
Oh, and by the way, I'll need ID cards for the three boys.
I'm sure the census committee will ask about them..."
Her words carried a hint of defiance.
Bach responded in a tone lined with a veiled warning:
— "Alright, understood.
One more thing: there are strangers nearby...
They're supposed to be guests, but it's best not to engage with them."
Magda, with a sharp look and composed voice, replied:
— "You mean the ones camping in the forest?"
Bach raised his eyebrows, then answered sharply:
— "That's an order from above."
Tension flickered across Magda's face at the mention of "above" in front of us.
She muttered in quiet resentment:
— "There are things... that shouldn't be said so carelessly."
Bach smirked in disdain, replying mockingly:
— "I just wish I got that much attention from you."
Magda pressed her lips together in visible anger, but didn't respond.
Bach left after a few moments, leaving behind a heavy atmosphere.
We waited for him to disappear, but he seemed to linger… as if watching.
As soon as he was gone, Magda turned on Mir in a heated argument:
— "How could you let him in without my permission?!"
Mir looked stunned, defending herself:
— "I didn't mean to... he just walked right in without asking.
I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen..."
But... that's not what I saw.
Was she really unaware? Or just pretending to be innocent?
***There, deep in the forest... the group began to appear, having finished preparing the place.
— "Wow… the forest is amazing. I'm excited to hunt!" one of them said in awe.
— "Better than that ridiculous hotel!"
— "I feel a strange sense of ease… it was a good idea, Boss."
All eyes turned toward a man sitting calmly, adjusting the hands of a luxurious pocket watch in his hand. He muttered to himself:
— "Oh… I forgot about her. Poland… I need to adjust the time."
One of them, wearing glasses, asked after some hesitation:
— "You haven't been here for a long time, have you? But… why this area in particular?"
He didn't finish his question before another one jumped on him, playfully putting his head under his arm in a mock chokehold. Boss glanced at them and gave a subtle smile… then slowly tapped the ash off his cigar and pulled a large, old, rusty nail from his pocket. He held it between his fingers for a moment, then suddenly drove it into the tree trunk beside him with surprising force. Everyone paused for a moment, their laughter cut off.
He said in a low voice, without looking at anyone:
— "Some places aren't chosen randomly... just because they resemble those who once passed through them."
Their conversation continued, and while laughter echoed among the group, it was suddenly interrupted by one of them looking through binoculars toward the orphanage. His voice dropped slightly:
— "Guys… are you sure that's just an orphanage?"
The others burst into laughter. The blond man said sarcastically:
— "Who knows, maybe it's a dance school!"
Another replied while examining the building:
— "The place… looks pale, like it has no soul." Then, with bitter sarcasm, he added:
— "My God, why do they use such sad colors in orphanages? It's like they're doubling the children's sorrow instead of easing it."
Earl, the one with the binoculars, spoke again with more tension in his voice:
— "Come on, I'm not joking. If you saw Blanco's state, he was agitated, almost bit me… I couldn't control him. He wouldn't stop whining when we passed by that place."
The blond man, Jack:
— "Maybe he smelled meat… or a feast of some sort."
Malik, the one with the glasses:
— "I doubt it. He's usually very calm."
Rona barks, while he mostly stays motionless.
Bill, the one with star tattoos:
— "Of course, Rona's just a reckless hunting dog, but Blanco is something else. You know, he served the country more than you ever did, blondie Jacky!"
Jack: — "How dare you?! I was a captain! With influence… Oh, if you saw my medals in real life, you'd die of jealousy!"
Malik: — "Brother Jack, Blanco actually outranks you. He held the rank of colonel, having served in the British SAS special forces for years. It's said that this dog knows the scent of death like a soldier knows the smell of gunpowder. Boss got him from someone after…"
Bill (grabbing his head): — "Oh God, could you shut up, Malik?"
(Boss looks cautiously at Blanco, holding his cigar in silence.)
(Blanco moves forward silently, his steps militaristic, his gaze sharp, as if he's not a dog but a seasoned fighter who knows every crack in the ground.)
Bill: — "Nice! Look, he knows you're talking about him—better be careful!"
Luca, raising his voice with confidence:
— "Blanco is a rare exception. Just look at his massive build—he was born to fight. He has intelligence and obedience that's uncommon for his breed, and he's been trained in special programs since he was young."
— "Unlike other Kangals, Blanco understands silent signals, tracks human scents from afar, and moves like a ghost in the dark. He wasn't used for stealth or agility… they unleashed him when survival was essential, no matter the cost."
— "He was the companion of a British soldier who was killed on a mission. Blanco was then enlisted in the special forces in honor of that soldier's memory. He participated in many dangerous missions with the Shadow Squad and worked in corpse recovery units. He was truly exceptional."
— "Right, boss? Sir Mikael?"