On Wednesday morning the door of Room 12 was open. It was open all night.
"Did you lock it?" the caretaker asked Afsona.
"I didn't lock it," she said. "I didn't have the key. Jasur had the key."
"Did Jasur leave last?"
"No, he didn't. He left at four with me."
"Who left last?" the caretaker asked. Nobody knew.
He looked around the room. Nothing was gone. The computer didn't move. Nobody touched the exam papers on the desk, and the money in the drawer didn't disappear.
Then Dilnoza opened the cupboard. On a pile of old maps a small grey cat was lying with four kittens.
"Did anybody see a cat here yesterday?" the caretaker asked.
Nobody answered. But now everybody understood one thing: somebody didn't forget the door. Somebody left it open on purpose.
The cat stayed in Room 12 until May. And who opened that door — nobody in this school says, not even today.