I twist the crumpled paper in my hands. It has a phone number on it. Mother of Edgar, Leon, Mark and Nastenka. What is she? I ask myself this question not the first day. I hesitate to call. Still, it's none of my business. And it would be nice to consult with Edgar.

The kids and Leon have been with us for almost a week, and we somehow got used to each other. Leon disappeared somewhere for days on end, returning in the evening. I knew he was looking for a job. And maybe already found, but has not yet confessed.

The first night of their stay in this huge...