Tommy and Lily. The Moon Key

The rain had stopped, and stars twinkled in the windows once more. Lily stood by the sill, watching a full moon rise from behind the clouds. Suddenly, a silvery spark ran across the glass and dropped onto the table. There, between the books and a quill, lay a tiny key—so slender it looked as if it had been carved from moonlight itself.
“Did you see that?” Lily whispered.
Tommy came closer. The key trembled softly, as if it were breathing. On its ring, an engraving shimmered: “The Moon is looking for a door.”