Bela’s room faced east.
By the time Iven reached it, the afternoon light had left the window and the opposite wall held a pale reflection from the shelter roof beyond. A pair of boots stood beneath the sill. There was room for the box Anja had drawn, if someone moved them.
No box stood there.
Neri opened the door.
She had washed the chalk from her hands. A little remained beneath one thumbnail. Her coat hung over the back of the only chair not occupied by someone else, the sleeves folded inward so they would not touch the floor.
Iven waited at the threshold.
“Bela says come in,” Neri said.
He entered.
