To the second."

How much?" Amelia asked, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets.

The old man placed his watch on the counter and took off his glasses.

"Twenty zlotys .

" "Are you kidding? The strap is gold-plated...

" The man sank into the chair, as if he had been standing for three hours, not minutes. He could have been fifty or seventy. His face was too wrinkled to read his age.

"I see. That's why I'm giving twenty zlotys, not two.

" "It's worth much more.

" "Not to me. I value it at twenty zlotys. Are you keeping it?"

Amelia glanced at the watch. The gold-plated strap, Roman numerals, and white dial looked very elegant. It was a memento of her father, who had vanished into thin air.

"It runs precisely, to the minute. It's old, but it never breaks. "

The man took the watch and held it a few centimeters to his eyes.

"Let it be thirty, but that's my last word."

Amelia sighed. Thirty zlotys for a watch worth several hundred. She couldn't agree to that.

"Sixty."

The old man placed the watch on the counter and pushed it toward Amelia.

"Thirty. I can't give you more."

She looked up at the ceiling, where the paint was peeling, then glanced at the shelves behind the man. They were lined with old objects, from crystals to a communist-era tape recorder. Nothing cost less than thirty zlotys, and most were over a hundred. At the very top stood a figurine of an Indian, holding a note with fifty zlotys written on it instead of a bow. Amelia wondered if its owner had received even half that sum.

"Then thank you," she said, pocketing the watch. She didn't need the money that much. Besides, there were several pawn shops in town.

The old man wasn't concerned. He shrugged and leaned over a newspaper. She ceased to exist for him. Perhaps the watch really wasn't worth much, or perhaps the man wanted her to come to that conclusion and change her mind. If so, it would be a pleasure to disappoint him. Amelia left the pawn shop without saying goodbye.

II

The hallway was so noisy that if she had screamed for help, no one would have heard. Everyone was shouting, trying to be heard over each other, scurrying around like caged rats, or sitting against the walls, waiting for their next lesson.

Amelia pushed her way through the crowd of teenagers filling the narrow hallway and entered room thirty-eight. Although there were three minutes left before the bell, most of the desks were still empty. A small group of people milled around the hamster and guinea pig cages, petting the animals. Others were surrounding the aquarium and feeding the fish. Only the python standing in the corner remained untouched.

"Where have you been? Mioduszewska was asking about you," Ela said as Amelia sat down at the desk next to her.

Mioduszewska always asked about her. Amelia was weak in math, and Mioduszewska claimed her bad grades were due to absence.

"I wanted to pawn a watch. They didn't open until nine.

" "And what?

" "Nothing. The guy offered me thirty zlotys."

Amelia placed the watch on the desk in front of Ela. The girl picked it up and began examining it as if she were doing an appraisal.

"Is it gold?

" "A little. " The strap is gold-plated, but the rest is fake. It's worth more than thirty zlotys.

"I see. Why do you want to sell it? It's probably some kind of heirloom.

" "From my father, so I can get rid of it with a clear conscience."

Ela glanced at Amelia just as the bell rang. The young people slowly began to gather at their desks and take out their books. Amelia also picked up her backpack.

"No pawn shop will pay you what it's worth. Thirty zlotys..."

Ela smiled and placed the watch on the desk.

"I'm sure they'll give me more somewhere. I'll go to the center after class.

" "Do you need money for something specific?

" "No, I..."

The teacher appeared in the doorway, so Amelia stopped and focused on searching for the book. It was no use; you can't find something that isn't there. She threw her backpack on the floor. It fell a little too loudly. Some of the class turned to her.

Pestycka began checking the attendance list. She was one of the younger teachers at the school. She tried to be both demanding and cheerful. She asked questions during every lesson, smiling at both those who were prepared and those who couldn't answer a single question. It was as if she took equal pleasure in giving Fs and Fs.

"So?" Ela asked, then yelled, "I'm here!" at the teacher. "

Louder. We can't hear you in the cloakroom," Pestycka said, pausing for a moment in her reading of the list.

Some of the class burst out laughing, but most kept a straight face. Amelia was too absorbed in her watch to be amused by the teacher's comment.

"Nothing specific.

" "But?

" "Does there always have to be a 'but'?" Amelia heard her name, so she looked at Pestycka. "I'm here."

Ela shrugged.

"No, not at all."

Amelia smiled, but when she saw the stack of papers in Pestycka's hands, she immediately sobered.

"Was there a test last week?

" "Did you forget? I studied until midnight yesterday, it's so boring."

Amelia's heart started beating faster, and her hands started shaking. The teacher was telling them to write an overdue test on plants and gymnosperms, and all she could see was that some were deciduous trees and others were conifers. This fool would reduce her chances of getting a B at the end of the year to a minimum.

"Clear the front desks." Ten people didn't take the test, but for your class, that's still a record.

Funny." Amelia was starting to wonder whether to give up right away, or wait until the teacher dictated the questions.

"Damn, it completely slipped my mind," she whispered.

"Oh, that's something new," Ela replied even more quietly. "Are we leaving?"

"How? Now? We have to take the test."

"So what? Watch and learn."

When the teacher called out Ela's name, the girl rose from her desk, took a step, and then fell. It looked very natural; Pestycka was instantly on her feet.

"Open the windows. We need to put a chair under her feet."

The teacher was probably the only person in the class who believed Ela had fainted. Beside the disbelief, there was amusement in the students' eyes. After a moment's hesitation, several people rushed to the windows, and a dozen or so others rushed toward Ela with chairs.

"We need to call an ambulance. It could be a stroke!" Jacek Rekowski shouted.

"Or a heart attack. Does she smoke?" said Wojtek Mazur, Jacek's best friend. Amelia suspected they were both supposed to be taking an overdue test today.

"Stay calm, it's probably just fainting," Pestycka said, approaching Ela. "We need to get her more oxygen. Get your books and start fanning her."

Of the thirty students, only seven hadn't moved. The others grabbed books, not necessarily their own, and began waving them over Ela's head. Most of them pursed their lips tightly, trying to hide their joy.

Amelia joined in too; after all, it was her best friend lying unconscious on the floor. If she weren't afraid of what would happen if the teacher realized Ela was faking, she would have been laughing hysterically. And the oxygen would have been more useful to Pestycka than to Ela. The teacher turned white as a sheet in a matter of seconds.

"It's probably from malnutrition. She's suspiciously thin," said Jadwiga Szewc, the classroom mistress.

"Yeah, but you can be thin for many reasons," replied Wojtek.

Ela couldn't help herself and opened her eyes. She gave the boy a cold look, then slowly sat up.

"No! Lie down!" Pestycka shouted, pinning Ela's shoulders to the ground. "Don't get up so quickly, you'll faint again."

"I'm feeling better now. Although I'm still feeling dizzy.

" "I'm telling you. It's anorexia," Jadwiga said. "It all fits."

Ela closed her eyes.

"Does anything hurt?" the teacher asked.

"Head," Ela said, opening her eyes. She touched her temple and looked at Pestycka. "But it'll go away soon, I can write the test...

" "Not at all. The doctor should see you. We'll call your parents.

" "No need. Amelia will just have to take me to the clinic where my father is a doctor. It's not far from here."

Pestycka frowned. She either wanted to send Ela straight to the hospital or was beginning to suspect the girl was faking it.

"There's no nurse at school, this will end in tragedy someday," Jadwiga blurted out.

"Are you threatening or promising?" Wojtek asked, and the whole class burst out laughing. Jadwiga's face turned red.

"This probably isn't the best time for such remarks, your friend is lying here half-conscious..."

Ela winked at Amelia, who was trying her best not to laugh.

"It's for her own good," Jadwiga said, stepping back. The others also began to return to their desks.

"Okay. Amelia, do you know where Ela's father works?

" "Yes."

"Then walk her home," Pestycka said, not taking her eyes off Ela. "Just get up slowly."

Ela stood up slowly, and Amelia meanwhile packed their backpacks.

"How are you feeling?" Pestycka asked.

"Relatively well.

" "Okay. Go, but slowly.

" "Okay," Amelia replied, following Ela toward the door.

In the hallway, she couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"I'm brilliant, right?"

"That was great: 'I can write the test.' "

Ela smiled, but within a second, she turned serious.

"And they say life kills naivety and childishness." What do you think?

"Apparently, it depends on people, not on life."

III

The red-haired man examined the watch as if it were a treasure. He turned it over in his hands, moving it closer and further away, his eyes narrowing, then widening.

A new hope filled Amelia. If the guy was examining the watch so carefully, maybe he'd offer more than thirty zlotys.

"Well, yes," the man tilted his head to the left and scratched his red beard. "Quite a nice watch. Is it a souvenir?

" "Sort of," Amelia replied, noticing Ela frowning out of the corner of her eye. She clearly didn't like that answer. She hadn't bid up the price.

"The strap is a bit gold-plated, but the dial isn't, so I can't offer you too much. And those initials on the back?"

The watch had her father's initials calligraphed on the back. HT Henryk Tarasiuk. Amelia hesitated, reluctant to mention it.

"It's from the English word 'hate,'" Ela said, getting ahead of Amelia. "Haven't you heard of the serial killer nicknamed 'Hate'? He killed seven women across the country. This watch belonged to the first of them. She was wearing it when she died.

Those letters were actually her initials, but that's where the psychopath's nickname came from."

The man put the watch down as if he'd been burned. Ela had gone too far. Who would want a watch that a woman died with? The world is sick, but not that sick.

" "So, I guess this is evidence," the man said, staring at Ela.

"No. There were no fingerprints or anything. The police handed it over.

" Ela, too, looked into the man's eyes. There was a moment of silence. The man was clearly trying to read something in the girl's face. Not even Amelia could do that, even though they'd known each other for over three years.

"If there was such a murderer, I'd have heard of him. The press would be blaring about it from morning till night.

" "The police forbade them. They don't want to stir up public concern and scare the killer away. But there are tons of undercover officers roaming the city. Sooner or later, they'll catch him.

" "In our city? That's impossible!

" "Possible. The first victim, her cousin, died here. That's where we got the watch

." Ela treated life like a game. Every move she made was carefully considered. Before she made her first move, she already knew the last. And so it was this time. She lied, looking into Amelia's eyes, because she knew it would work. It often irritated Amelia, but she was convinced that Ela was always honest with her. She trusted her, though sometimes she felt like she was walking down a dark corridor whose exit only Ela knew.

"Really?" the man turned to Amelia.

The girl desperately wanted to get rid of the watch, so she decided to lie. She made a sad face and said,

"Yes. I still can't come to terms with her death, and the watch only makes it worse. That's why I want to sell it."

The man picked up the watch again and began examining it. This time, not as if it were a treasure, but like a bomb that had just exploded.

"Five hundred zlotys."

Amelia was stunned. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

"Okay. That's fine."

When she received five hundred-zloty bills, she thought the world was a very sick place after all. She lowered her gaze so as not to see Ela's smile.

IV

Five hundred zlotys was a good sum, especially for a high school student who didn't receive any pocket money and only worked during the summer distributing leaflets. Two zlotys an hour putting trash in people's doors might seem like a good salary, but it amounted to less than sixty zlotys a week. After the holidays, she had six hundred zlotys, which was supposed to last her the entire year.

She wasn't a spendthrift and would have been happy with that amount if it weren't for the fact that she had to buy textbooks and a semester bus ticket. She wasted half her pay on that, and with the rest she bought clothes, because she had to wear something. Since her father disappeared, the house was tight. All of her mother's pay went to bills. So she was completely on her own.

Now she had five hundred zlotys to spend on whatever she wanted. The thought alone brought a smile to her face. Even the way she'd gotten the money no longer seemed as immoral as it had before.

"What now?" "Ela asked when they reached the end of the sidewalk. Shops and pubs lined both sides of the street. They tried to lure customers with colorful displays, large signs, and discounts: bargains, everything fifty percent off, come in, you won't regret it. For Amelia, it was as tempting as drugs.

"Let's go for pizza. I don't remember the last time I was in a pizzeria, I think..." She trailed off as she realized what he was about to say. The last time she ate pizza was a few days before her father disappeared. He'd gotten some kind of bonus, or so he said, so he took the family out for dinner. "I'm paying. I can afford it."

Ela frowned, but after a few seconds, a smile returned to her face.

"Okay. There's a great pizzeria on the corner.

" "Let's go then.

" The

place had the nonsensical name "Kasatra," but it looked like a thousand other pizzerias. A few tables lined the window, a few against the wall, but most were in the middle of the room. They were covered with pink tablecloths, slightly lighter than the walls. Behind the bar stood a man in a white shirt and green apron. He had long sideburns and spiky bangs. He must have used a lot of gel to style his hair.

When they sat down at the table, he approached them and handed them their cards with a smile. Ela followed him to the bar with her eyes.

"Nice, isn't he?" she asked.

"He's smiling because he expects a tip. Is that why you like this place so much?

" "How cynical. They have good pizza here. The handsome waiters are just a bonus.

" "Exactly," Amelia said with a smile.

"Exactly. You'll see," Ela said, returning the smile.

Amelia ordered a large pepperoni pizza, and Ela ordered a medium seafood pizza. Amelia laughed, summing up her friend's choice and adding two beers to her order.

The pizza was indeed delicious, so Amelia devoured it in a matter of minutes. Ela wanted to offer her some of her own, but she declined. Fruit and pizza didn't seem to go together. The beer was a different story. It was perfect for her. She ordered another round, having consumed most of the first few beers while waiting for the pizza.

She was in a great mood. Partly because of the alcohol, but mostly she was happy to be at a pizzeria instead of at school and have money to order whatever she wanted. She could do so many things with the money, but she didn't want to commit to anything just yet. She wasn't going to spend it all in one day. She'd regret it tomorrow.

She'd have to go back to her normal life, where she couldn't afford to go to parties or the movies with others. And now she could buy something from the school store or go out for pizza and beer after class to take her mind off the stress.

She motioned for the waiter to order another beer each. She didn't want to leave the pizzeria; she felt good and calmer with each passing moment. All her sorrows had vanished. And good, she didn't need them now. She could worry tomorrow; today she'd take a break from life.

"If you're buying the pizza, I'll pay for the beer," Ela said.

"No way. You've bought it so many times, so now it's my turn.

" "Fine, whatever you want. Just remember, you don't have a safe, only five hundred zlotys. That's not much.

" "I know, I know."

A waiter appeared with two mugs of beer, set them on the table, and moved on to the next table. The place was slowly filling up. When they arrived, almost all the tables were empty. Now only the ones in the center were empty, and more and more people were arriving.

Amelia glanced at the watch her father had given her for her birthday. He generally liked watches and placed a high value on punctuality. Being five minutes late could result in a week-long television ban. Even though she thought it was cruel and often got angry with her father, she had learned not to be late. She preferred arriving fifteen minutes early rather than a minute late.

"It's almost five... how quickly...

" "Very quickly," Ela replied, staring at the gelatinous waiter pouring beer. A few minutes ago, his friend had arrived, and now they were taking turns waiting tables. He was blond, of average height, and quite handsome, but compared to his friend, he looked average.

"Won't your parents worry about you? Maybe we should go back," Amelia said, not because she wanted to go, but because she felt she had to say something like that. She didn't want to force Ela to stay here.

"If they do, they'll call on his cell phone, but I doubt it," she said, shifting her gaze to Amelia.

The girl nodded and lifted her mug.

"I wonder if Janusz has a girlfriend?" Ela asked, turning her gaze back to the waiter.

"What Janusz?

" "Waiter. That's what's written on his pocket, haven't you noticed? Embroidered with blue thread, matching his eyes.

" "No," Amelia replied, and poured herself another drink. She was starting to feel a little dizzy. She rarely drank, so it didn't take much to get drunk. She had to be careful not to cross that fine line. It was a long way home, and she didn't want to risk getting lost in the town she'd grown up in.

Ela tore her attention away from Janusz to take a beer, but then looked at Amelia instead.

"I see beer's working..."

Amelia shrugged.

"Maybe a little. I'm a strong head.

" "I see," Ela said with a smile.

"At least I feel better. Even your waiter doesn't seem like such a braggart anymore. "

Ela frowned.

"A few more beers and you'll start hitting on him...

" "Easy, he's yours." Besides, he looks like the kind of guy who, when he makes a girl fall in love with him, leaves," Amelia said and took another sip of beer. This time she must have overdone it, because suddenly the whole room began to spin before her eyes.

"I don't know?" Ela looked again at Janusz, who was taking an order from a family with three fidgeting children. "I think you're jumping to conclusions.

" "Maybe. He's probably a fantastic guy, try picking him up. He's definitely worth every effort.

" "How many years ago did your father disappear?"

The question sobered Amelia completely, so she downed the rest of her beer and started looking around for the waiter. She couldn't see him anywhere.

"Five. My mother's still hoping he'll come back.

" "And you don't?"

Janusz appeared at a nearby table, and Amelia motioned for him to come over with her eyes.

"No. He probably has a new family already, the perfect ones like in TV series." Everyone's moving on time, like the hands on his damn watch." Amelia felt herself starting to ramble, so she decided to change the subject. "Your guy's coming. Maybe take off your sweater, it'd impress him."

Ela kicked her leg under the table. Amelia considered screaming, but changed her mind. Just in case Ela really wanted to go on a date with Janusz. True, she wasn't of age yet, and the waiter was closer to thirty than twenty, but the age difference wasn't more than ten years. Besides, Ela looked older than seventeen, and it had been a long time since anyone had asked her for ID when she ordered a beer.

"I'm listening," the waiter said with the smile he gave all the customers. He was probably as genuine as Ken's. When her father left, Amelia threw the male dolls in the trash.

"Two beers, please.

" "Thank you, I still have some," Ela said.

"Well, that's one."

"It's getting ready," Janusz replied, and headed towards the bar, behind which the woman was now standing. Amelia had no idea how she'd gotten there or how long she'd been standing there.

"Maybe he really had to run from the police or the mafia..."

Amelia looked at Ela, for a moment confused as to who her friend was talking about.

"Is that why he brought our neighbor with him? A dyed doll whose biggest dream was probably silicone breasts."

When Amelia found out, all the Barbie dolls ended up in the trash as well. She felt much better, though she'd rather get back at her father than at toys. "He ran off with a woman younger than your mother?

" "Almost twenty years. A high school Spanish teacher.

" "Strange..."

Janusz set a beer on the table.

"Here you go.

" "Thank you," she replied, not looking at the waiter. She didn't want to see his fake smile. When he left, she took a sip of her beer and said,

"Why strange? I think that's what you call a midlife crisis." But that name is nothing more than an excuse. If you think about it, all names justify something; maybe that's why people like to name everything so much.

"Maybe," Ela replied, looking Amelia in the eye.

"Every time, the family blamed it all on that woman. They said he'd come back when he got bored. Funny, but my mother probably wanted it. For him to come back. After all...

" "I guess that means she loves him.

" "But if he ran away, that means he doesn't love her, right?"

Ela looked down at her beer, picked up her glass, but didn't drink.

"I guess so. And didn't anyone know about his affair before?"

"No, that's funny too. We were shocked, my mother especially. I didn't want to believe it at first either. But the detective my mother hired found his letter to that woman. He wrote how much he loved her and how much he wanted to live with her. The truth remains the truth, whether we believe it or not.

" "Sure. But even the truth is rarely black or white," Ela said, finishing her beer.

Amelia also focused on drinking. The alcohol pleasantly confused her thoughts, preventing her from dwelling on the past. And that was fine. Why torment herself with something you can neither change nor understand? It's just endless torment.

VI

After finishing her fourth beer, Amelia started to feel dizzy, so they went for a walk. Ela claimed the fresh air would perk her up, and she was right. After half an hour of wandering the streets of Sopot, both large and small, she felt much better.

It was almost 8 p.m., and her mother usually returned home from work at that time. She had to call home to let them know she'd be home late today.

They headed toward Monciak, which was full of phone booths. Ela did have a cell phone, but hadn't bought a card for it in a long time. People could call her, but she couldn't even get a signal.

When Amelia said she'd be there at midnight, her mother was a little surprised, but she didn't protest. She hung up, scanning Monciak.

"What now?" Ela asked.

"Maybe..." Amelia began, but stopped short as she saw a man standing at an ATM a few meters away who looked just like... "It's him!"

Ela began, having no idea what was going on.

"Who?

" "My father. At the ATM!

" "Impossible, you think. It's the alcohol and the memories.

" "I don't think so, let's get closer."

Without looking back at Ela, she took a few steps toward the ATM. She stopped ten meters from her father, not wanting him to see her. It was him, she had no doubt. The same auburn, carelessly tossed hair, only flecked with gray. Her father's face also had more wrinkles, but those green eyes…

"Do you have his picture on you?" Ela asked.

"Why would I have a picture of someone I have no feelings for, except maybe anger?" Amelia replied, not taking her eyes off her father. It was him, Henryk Tarasiuk, no one else.

"If it were him…

" "It's definitely him."

Her father pocketed the money and began walking up the street. Amelia followed him without a second thought.

"What do you want to do?" Ela asked, keeping pace.

"I don't know. I'll see where he lives. You don't have to come with me if you don't want to.

" "But I will. You're not thinking completely logically right now.

" "Maybe. And how would you feel about meeting your father, who abandoned you five years ago?

" "Bad.

" "That's exactly how I feel. I need to know where he lives.

" "Okay.

" VII

But knowing this didn't help her at all. Looking at the two-story house with its garden, she felt terrible. As if someone had run her over with a truck and left her dying in the middle of the road.

The villa must have cost her father tens of thousands more than her mother had earned since he left. He lived in luxury, while his wife and daughter couldn't even save enough for a movie ticket in a year. Besides, what was the point of saving when you had to take out a loan because you couldn't pay the bills?

Amelia felt tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked to keep from crying, but the lump in her throat grew even larger. She took a step back and turned her back on the villa. An even more elegant house appeared before her eyes. This was a wealthy estate.

She closed her eyes and sucked in as much air as she could. Like the first breath of a diver whose breathing apparatus has broken.

This was about more than money. Her father had fled his wife and daughter, abandoning them like torn, worn-out shoes. He wanted nothing to do with them. They didn't matter to him.

Amelia was nothing to him. He didn't love her…

The alcohol and her thoughts were making her dizzy. Grief was turning into anger. Her father had abandoned his family without a second thought, but he couldn't bear to part with Sopot. This city meant more to him than Amelia.

Or perhaps he had left, realized he'd made a mistake, and returned? It was impossible for him to have lived here from the beginning. The police would have found him. After all, they were considering kidnapping, murder, or even some kind of embezzlement. They'd surely searched all of Sopot.

She opened her eyes and turned back toward her father's house.

"I need to talk to him," she said.

Ela didn't answer, so Amelia looked around to see if her friend was still beside her. She almost screamed when she saw the figure in the black hood right behind her. Only now did she feel the coldness return. She wished she had a hoodie today, like Ela.

"And what will you tell him?"

Amelia reluctantly began to consider this. Anger, mixed with regret and hope, was raging through her. She wanted to confront her father, to unleash the negative emotions that had been building up over the past five years on her father.

"I'll tell him what a pig he is, how much he hurt us."

Ela took a step forward and found herself beside Amelia.

"Do you think this will make any impression on him? That he'll fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness?"

Anger stifled the tears that were welling up in her eyes again.

"I don't know, I don't care. I just want him to know. I want..." Amelia trailed off, already doubting what she wanted and didn't want. Everything blurred together. Past and future. Illusions became the same as reality.

"Okay. If it makes you feel better, talk to him. But not today, not like this.

" Amelia was tired of waiting. And she was afraid that her father would vanish into thin air tomorrow, just like he had five years ago.

"I've waited long enough," she said, moving toward the gate.

VIII

Amelia thought the gate would be locked, but when she pressed the handle, the metal door gave way.

She entered the garden. A paved path ran from the gate to the door, surrounded by lawn. To the left, the greenery gave way to flower beds, and to the right stood a plastic table and two deck chairs, each matching its height.

Didn't her father live here alone? If he found his Spanish teacher or another woman inside, controlling his emotions would be next to impossible. She was already furious, and if she had to face her father's mistress, she might not be able to control her nerves.

"Wait here for me. I have to handle this myself," she said, heading toward the house.

Ela continued following her.

"No way. You're too drunk and too angry to go there alone.

" "I'm sober now," Amelia replied. It seemed to her that the angrier she got, the lower her blood alcohol level. It wasn't the alcohol that was crippling her logical thinking, but the anger.

"You just think so."

Amelia reached the porch. There was no name on the door.

She raised her hand to the doorbell, but before she touched the button, she lowered it.

"You don't have to do this," Ela said in a hushed voice, pulling back her hood.

"I think I do."

Amelia took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

For a moment, she wanted to run, but her legs felt so heavy she couldn't move them. It was as if she were standing on glue.

She looked into Eli's eyes, and her friend smiled faintly and blinked. That calmed her a little. She wasn't alone; she had support.

The curtain moved, but the light was off, so she couldn't see the face of the person staring at her. A moment later, the lights throughout the house and on the porch came on, and the door lock creaked. Amelia jumped, nearly falling off the porch. The lights blinded her, and for a moment, she couldn't see anything.

But when the door opened, she recognized her father immediately. He stood in the doorway, eyes wide, staring at her daughter as if she'd come to him from beyond the grave, not from another part of the same city.

"Hi, Daddy," she said, accentuating only the vowels. "Can we come in?"

Henryk's lips moved, but no words came out. Amelia felt more confident.

"What? You won't let your own daughter in? After all these years, Dad?" She emphasized the "a" and "o" again. She wanted to annoy her father, but he didn't seem to be listening. Maybe he was trying to convince himself he was imagining things.

"Ttt..." he stuttered on that letter like a scratched record. A woman's voice spoke from deeper in the apartment.

"Honey, who is that? Why are you standing there, on..." The woman stood at Henryk's side and was as speechless as he was. Jadwiga Oliczak, the Spanish teacher, as usual, wearing makeup, dyed, and fake hair.

Amelia thought that if she saw a woman with her father, she would lose her composure, but nothing of the sort happened. The sight of a graying middle-aged man and a twenty-something Barbie doll, unable to speak, was as amusing as it was pathetic.

"Well, come on. So, everything's back to normal. Are we going to talk here? I don't mind. I'd love to tell the residents of this wonderful neighborhood what a scoundrel you are!" Her voice rose an octave with each word, though she hadn't planned on it. Maybe the alcohol hadn't completely evaporated after all.

"Come in. We're not stopping you. Why make a scene now?" Jadwiga said, freezing Henryk with a cold stare. "What are you doing standing there? Move, damn it!"

Father stepped back from the door, letting them in. The living room they found themselves in was a sickly pink. The color absorbed the walls, the carpet, and the sofa. The wooden table was covered with a blue floral tablecloth, and the cabinets were upholstered in blue and purple. Fortunately, the walls were full of paintings, and the shelves were full of vases, photos, and other decorations. Otherwise, one could go crazy here.

"How did you find me?" Henryk asked. He seemed to feel more comfortable in his pink kingdom.

"I simply found me. Sopot is a small town."

Her father nodded and headed for the sideboard at the back of the room, just behind the stairs. As he passed the sofa, he pointed to it and said,

"Sit down. I suppose you want to talk.

" Amelia shook her head and looked at Ela. The girl was examining a painting hanging on the wall. It depicted a fruit platter, its shape elongated and distorted.

"We'll stand. It won't take long."

Jadwiga gave the girls a cold look, then turned to Henryk. She took a glass of some kind of alcohol from his hand and gestured at Amelia.

Henryk frowned, glared at Jadwiga, but then approached his daughter.

"I'm sorry it turned out this way. I was planning to visit you, I was just waiting for the right moment. And I wasn't sure you wanted to see me."

Amelia lowered her gaze. She tried to gather her thoughts, put aside her emotions, and calmly tell her father what she thought of him. But she was increasingly unsure if this was what she wanted.

"You waited five years for the right moment? You lived in Sopot the whole time and didn't even bother to ask how we were doing? Do we have food? Where to live?

" "I've only lived here six months. An opportunity arose, this house..." her father began looking around as if he were in a palace. "An opportunity. We bought it for next to nothing. And your mother was always resourceful. You're certainly not starving.

" "No thanks to you.

" "Believe me, it was hard for me too. I had to start all over again. I worked from morning till night to break even. If I had any savings, I would have sent them to you immediately. Believe me. But life hasn't been kind to me."

Her father was wearing a suit more expensive than her entire wardrobe, lived in a villa whose living room was more expensive than Amelia's entire house, and tried to convince her that his life was hard. Anger began to take over every cell in her body again.

She wanted to vent all her fury, but Ela spoke up:

"Are those paintings a bargain too? They're famous reproductions.

" "They're my inheritance," Jadwiga interjected, approaching them. "My uncle left them to me in his will. He was a connoisseur of modern art. Is that why you came here? For money?"

Amelia took a step toward the teacher and fixed her with a baleful gaze:

"I don't care about your money! You could both choke on it." Amelia looked at her father, feeling tears welling up in her eyes, but she didn't care. "I just want you to know how much you hurt Mom and me. At first, we thought something had happened to you." My mother cried all night, praying for you to come back. Every day she ran to the police station and walked around town with your picture, asking passersby if they'd seen you. She spent all her savings on ads, detectives, and fortune tellers to find you.

"I didn't know...

" "We thought you were dead until the detective connected your disappearance with our neighbor's departure and found a letter you'd written to your mistress. He also mentioned your company's problems. He said the tax office was investigating tax fraud. Everything seemed clear.

" "I had to...

" "But you know what?" My mother didn't believe it," Amelia said, cutting him off. She wanted to say what she'd come here for, while she still had some control. "She told me you wouldn't do something like that, that you were a good person who wouldn't be capable of doing such a terrible thing to anyone, especially not your family. She was waiting for you, hoping you'd come back to us."

Henryk took a few steps toward Amelia; now she was less than a meter away.

"Listen, honey, there are these...

" "Don't call me honey! Never!

" This "honey" seemed to be too much; tears began to flow from Amelia's eyes.

"Okay. Amelia, unpredictable things happen in life. Things we don't plan for. I fell in love. I didn't want to hurt your mother, but the feeling was stronger. I was going to file for a divorce, but business matters... I had to disappear for a while.

" "You could have called, written a letter, anything.

" "I know. I'm sorry. I should have done it."

Amelia didn't know what else to say. This conversation was going nowhere.

"You should have. But it doesn't matter now.

" "I really had my reasons," he said, his voice trembling. Only now did Amelia notice that her father had turned terribly pale.

"Everyone has their reasons," she said, moving toward the door.

"Wait, Amelia! You need money, wait." Her father pulled his wallet from his jacket and began rummaging through it, as if he couldn't decide which bill to take out.

It didn't matter to Amelia. She wasn't about to take any money from him. She opened the door. A pleasant coolness immediately enveloped her. Ela stepped out onto the porch.

"Wait...

" "I said I don't need your money. Goodbye. "

Her father grabbed her hand. Amelia jerked away so violently that he was frozen in shock.

"I'm sorry. Maybe when we both calm down, we can meet somewhere in town and talk. Now that I'm back in Sopot...

" "For me, you could even live on the moon. I don't want anything to do with you."

She ran off the porch and headed down the path toward the gate. Her father shouted something, but she didn't hear him. Her heartbeat drowned out all the words.

IX

She stopped only when she had run out of the residential area. She'd love to keep running, but she didn't know where she was. On one side of the street was a park, and on the other, gray tenement buildings. She felt like she was seeing this neighborhood for the first time.

Ela stood beside her, breathing deeply and holding her side.

"Do you know where we are?" Amelia asked, watching her friend. She was afraid Ela's patience had worn thin and she was about to start an argument.

"More or less. You ran the wrong way. Oh my! I should probably work on my fitness.

" "I'm sorry. I didn't think so.

" "Never mind."

Ela crossed the street, then turned left and walked along the sidewalk separating the tenement buildings from the road. A confused Amelia followed her.

"Are you better now?" Ela asked after a moment.

"A little. I know everything; I can close this chapter. Do you think I did the right thing by not taking the money? We could really use it.

" "You did the right thing. And if anything happens, you can always sue him for child support. As long as he doesn't run away."

Amelia frowned and looked into her friend's eyes:

"It doesn't matter to me. She can even run to the ends of the earth. I don't care."

She hadn't fully come to terms with the thought yet, but she was closer than she had been an hour ago. She knew the truth, so now all that remained was to accept it.

"Will you tell your mother you met him?"

Amelia wasn't convinced it was a good idea. Her mother would definitely want to visit her father, there would be a fight, and she would cry at night again. Only recently had she come to terms with the thought of never seeing her husband again. She was starting to live a normal life again. On the other hand, Amelia had no right to hide from her mother that her father lived in Sopot. If she were her mother, she would prefer to know the truth.

"I don't know. I'll think about it. I'm too tired for that now. Life can be full of surprises, right?"

Ela smiled and nudged Amelia in the side.

"People, not life. But that makes it interesting. Will we study seed plants tomorrow after class at my place? Nothing will save us from the test on Thursday. Not life, not people."

Amelia reluctantly returned her thoughts to everyday life. It was already after 11 p.m., she would get home around one, and at six she would have to get up and go to school.

"Fine. But maybe between studying different plant species, we can figure out a way to get out of the test again? You could pretend to be crazy...

" "Interesting idea, but you would handle it better," Ela said, trying to hold back a smile. After a few seconds, they both burst out laughing.

X

Amelia entered the house with a smile. In her hand, she clutched a quiz on plant and gymnosperms, graded a four out of five by Pestycka.

Her mother's black stilettos, which she always wore to work, stood in the hallway. Amelia dropped her backpack on the floor and went into the kitchen. Her mother wasn't there.

"Mom?" she asked in a raised voice, entering the room.

"I'm here."

Weronika Tarasiuk was sitting in an armchair with a note in her hand. Tears welled in her eyes.

"What happened?"

Amelia was terrified that something bad had happened to them again.

"Henryk... He's alive, your daddy's alive. He sent a letter and money. He says he's very sorry, he apologizes to both of us..."

Amelia retreated toward the kitchen. She hoped she wouldn't hear about her father again. She hadn't told her mother she'd met him because she wanted to cut him out of their lives forever. And now...

" "She wants to meet, talk. He lives here, in Sopot. Wonderful, right?"

Amelia shrugged. She had touched her father's conscience, so he sent money to calm her down. It didn't matter; it didn't change her feelings one bit. "I'm sorry" can't fix everything. Money, especially not.

She sat down on the sofa next to her mother, letting her arm go around her.

"He wants to meet, you know? Maybe he wants to come back."

Amelia sighed. She had already come to terms with her father's departure; her mother would have to do the same. But this letter... Yes, it's people who surprise, not life.