1
Nika liked spending time at the cemetery. No, she wasn’t some goth chick, and you couldn’t exactly call her a thrill-seeker either. She just happened to live close to this place that most people found creepy, and to her, it was... well, just part of the scenery. Some folks have a river or a lake behind their house, others a forest, and some unlucky ones have a view of a dumpster. For Nika, it was the cemetery across the street.
What’s more, she walked through it every day since it was the quickest way to get to work. Most of her neighbors, gripped by some superstitious dread, would skirt around the cemetery fence to reach the bus stop. But Nika cut straight through, and among the graves, she felt no fear at all. On the contrary, there was a strange peace and quiet there, as if time itself paused. She could stop for a moment, gaze at the green hills on the horizon—her small town spread out below like a map—and imagine herself as a tree or a flower, with no need to rush anywhere or prove anything to anyone...
***
Nika worked at a gift shop. She loved arriving early in the morning, before the customers showed up, to dust the shelves and arrange the cute little trinkets in the display window. Each time, she’d create a new scene—sometimes an ancient castle, other times an enchanted forest, or even a fairy kingdom. The townsfolk often went out of their way just to pass by the shop and see what new creation was in the window. And plenty of them would step inside afterward to buy a small keepsake, or sometimes something pricier.
“Geez,” her coworker Angela would say, “don’t you have anything better to do? Do they pay you extra for all this fancy stuff? Nope! So why bother?”
“I’m not bothered,” Nika would usually reply. “Think of it as my hobby.”
Angela would roll her eyes at that and head to the back room to chat on her phone, making sure the boss wasn’t around first. And most of the time, he wasn’t. He was a busy guy, always on the move, with two other stores—a hardware shop and a construction supply place—at opposite ends of town. So, for the most part, Nika and Angela managed things on their own.
Business at the shop was so-so; the economic downturn didn’t exactly encourage people to splurge on souvenirs. Still, life went on in their town—babies were born, weddings happened, anniversaries were celebrated—so the need for gifts never really dried up.
The shop also sold flowers, and putting together custom bouquets for clients was another of Nika’s tasks. People said she was pretty good at it. She wasn’t sure if she enjoyed the work, though. It always made her sad to see cut flowers wilt so quickly, losing their charm before ending up in the trash.
That day, she’d made so many bouquets that her hands felt numb. Tomorrow was Teacher Appreciation Day, and parents were flooding in to order beautiful, unique arrangements, always stressing that it had to be one-of-a-kind. After all, it’d be awkward if a teacher got two identical gifts, right? So Nika did her best. Meanwhile, Angela manned the cash register, taking payments and printing receipts.
Finally, evening rolled around, and the stream of customers slowed to a trickle. After finishing the last bouquet, Nika collapsed onto a chair, exhausted.
“This is just awful. My whole body’s aching,” she complained to Angela.
Angela was busy balancing the register.
“Not a bad haul for Petrovich today,” she muttered. “If only he’d toss a little more our way for the overtime. But nah, he’s the cheapest of the cheap. I’m thinking it’s time to bail on this place.”
“Come on, don’t be silly,” Nika replied. “It’s not like this happens every day. We’ll get a breather until St. Nicholas Day.”
“Yeah, right. Then the marathon starts—New Year’s, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, International Women’s Day...”
“Oh, come on, why are you looking a whole year ahead? We’ll figure it out...”
Nika didn’t want to change jobs. She got attached to people, places, and routines, and whenever something had to change abruptly, she felt thrown off and lost. She could easily adopt the saying “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush” as her life motto. Angela, on the other hand, was all about adventure and chasing excitement. Routine and monotony were her worst nightmares. But, as opposites often do, they attracted each other, and the two girls were best friends.
After locking up the shop, they walked together to the end of Main Street, where their paths split. Angela headed toward the new high-rise neighborhood, while Nika’s route took her to the older, residential area with private homes. She’d missed her bus, as usual, so she decided to walk.
*****************
It was a cool autumn evening—not quite dark yet, but no longer day, that brief twilight hour when the sky glows with a strange pink light. Against it, the trees, already dressed in yellow, looked almost unreal, like props on a movie set. Lights began flickering on in the houses along the street, and Nika couldn’t help but peek into the lit-up windows as she passed by. She loved this little habit of hers. For a fleeting moment, she’d become a witness to other people’s lives—families sitting down to dinner or still cooking, kids playing, parents chatting, or everyone gathered around the TV. Some windows were covered with curtains, but many were open to view, and through cracked-open vents, she caught snippets of music, bits of conversation, and the delicious smells of home-cooked meals. Shadows fell across the sidewalk as streetlights blinked on one by one. Nika felt like she could walk forever, even though she was almost home.
All that was left was to take her usual shortcut through the cemetery or go the slightly longer way around the fence. Nika hesitated for a moment but ultimately turned onto the nearest cemetery path. And that’s when something happened that changed her life forever. She saw a little girl.
At first, it didn’t seem like a big deal—a kid’s just a kid, even if it’s a bit odd to see one here. Nika herself had dared to come to the cemetery at night with classmates back in the day, just to prove she wasn’t scared. Besides, it wasn’t completely dark yet, just dusk. Still, something about this girl felt off. It was as if she wasn’t here by chance but had been waiting specifically for Nika. At least, the moment she spotted her, the child stood up from the bench she’d been sitting on and started walking toward her.
She looked like an ordinary seven-year-old schoolgirl, wearing a red jacket and jeans, her blonde hair tied up in a ponytail, with big brown eyes. In her hands, she held a Barbie doll dressed in a pink ball gown.
“Hello,” the girl greeted politely.
“Good evening, more like,” Nika said with a smile. “Aren’t you scared to be here alone?”
The girl shrugged, her eyes fixed intently on Nika’s face. That searching gaze made Nika uneasy for some reason, like a chill running down her spine. To shake off the feeling, she kept talking in the same deliberately cheerful tone.
“Maybe it’s time to head home? Where do you live?”
“47 Station Street, Apartment 22,” the girl rattled off automatically. But then a shadow seemed to cross her face. She lowered her head and scuffed the ground with the toe of her sneaker a few times.
Then she looked up at Nika again.
“Can I ask you for something, please?” the child said quickly.
“Of course. Do you want me to walk you home?”
“No,” the girl shook her head firmly. “Please go to my mom and tell her I’m okay so she doesn’t worry. And give her this doll. If she doesn’t believe you, tell her to take my Andersen’s fairy tales book from my shelf and open it to page seven. Can you remember that? Page seven—like the seven days in a week. 47 Station Street—there’s a seven there too, and the apartment is two twos.”
“Wait, did you run away from home?” Nika asked, surprised. “How about we go to your mom together? If you got into trouble, I’ll ask her not to be mad, okay?”
She reached out to take the girl’s hand, but the child turned sharply, placed the doll on a nearby table, and stepped back a few feet.
“Tell her I’m okay!” she called out one more time before running off and disappearing down the path.
Nika walked over to the table and picked up the doll.
“I don’t get it,” she muttered, looking around.
The doll stared back at her with indifferent blue eyes. It felt cold, as if no one had been holding it just moments before.