The girl, deeply immersed in thoughts about the strange events taking place recently in Dallas, slowly approached the house of Elliot Gussman. She had heard about his reputation and hoped that she would find answers to her questions here. The door, slightly ajar, creaked as she cautiously stepped inside.

Her gaze was immediately attracted by a blackboard strewn with photographs attached with stationery buttons. The photographs, at first glance, seemed chaotically scattered, but upon closer examination it turned out that each of them had its own place and significance in the overall picture. The girl's attention shifted to the boy, who was standing in front of the board with a cup of coffee in his hands. His gaze was focused and penetrating, despite the youthfulness of his appearance.

The boy, without taking his eyes off the board, took a sip of strong black coffee, feeling the bitterness on his tongue, and smiled sarcastically when he noticed the girl's presence. He had a way of acting like he knew more than everyone else, and that way often annoyed people. He was wearing a school uniform, which looked strange in such a place.

"The owner is not at home," he said, his voice calm but with a hint of sarcasm. "But you can come in if you've come. I think you have questions that you hope to get answers to." He pulled away from the board and turned to her, his eyes glittering with interest and hidden menace. "You know that there are rarely casual guests in this house," he added, stepping aside to let her pass.

The room she entered seemed even more mysterious. The shelves were lined with books, many of which looked ancient and battered. There were papers on the table with incomprehensible notes and maps. The boy was watching her, his mind already working at full capacity, analyzing every detail of her behavior and appearance. He was ready for any eventuality, knowing that in this world no one is what they seem at first glance.