Lila loved her new bedroom, except for the old wooden closet in the corner. It had no handle, and its door never quite closed all the way. Every night, when the moonlight crept across the floor, the closet would creak.
“Probably the wind,” Lila told herself.
One night, she woke to a soft whisper.
“Liiiilaaa…”
She sat up, heart thumping. “Who’s there?”
No answer, just the slow creak-creak of the closet door moving, inch by inch. She pulled the blanket to her chin. The whisper came again, closer this time.
“Lila, I’m cold…”
Terrified but curious, she tiptoed to the closet and tugged the door open. Inside hung only her coats and a single dusty box on the floor. She bent down and lifted the lid…and found a little note.
It said: Thank you for letting me out.
Lila gasped and spun around. The closet was empty. The whisper stopped. The room fell silent. She dove under her covers and didn’t sleep until morning.
When sunlight filled the room, she dared to peek at the closet. It stood wide open now, the box gone. On the wall inside, scrawled in neat chalk letters, was a new message:
Don’t worry, Lila. I’ll come back when it’s cold again.
From then on, she always kept her room very warm.