"What's the matter?"

(Continue…)
Going out the yard the daughter-in-law joined her husband and made a noise. Later, the yard was filled with neighbors. One by one, the eldest daughter - Karomat, the middle one - Salomat, then the son A'lam and their children came in. The ambit was surrounded by screams.
Only the old woman did not make a sound. There was no meaning left on his face, sitting by the window with his grandson in his arms she was watching the people in the yard. Maybe she didn't see anything. It was like she was frozen. Everyone understood her situation. she had not spoken to the deceased for fifteen years... Suddenly the door creaked and she turned shudderly. Karomat, Salomat, A'lam and Azamjon were bowing their heads. They wanted to say something. But they couldn't dare.
"What's the matter?"
Alam coughed and began to speak hoarsely:
- We turned the house upside down and found nothing.
"Money?"
- Had he not collected anything for his fiuneral?...
"Even if he collected it, it's hard to find where it is now."
The old woman smiled coldly again. Everyone's head was bowed. No one noticed.
- Search from the shelf.
Standing on tiptoe A’lam reached out and took the discolored knot. They opened.
- Count, spend half. Put the rest in place. You know where it is. If something goes wrong, it's for me.
Karomat, thin and turned to black, cried uncontrollably. Salamat also joined her. The men rubbed their eyes.
"Don't cry too much, one day everybody dies," said the old woman calmly. The children went out. The baby also slipped out of the old woman's hand. An old woman was left alone in the room. Everyone was moving around the yard, busying with the dead. No one even thought about whether she was there or not. The events that came to life in the old woman's memory were obvious to her alone...
She grew up in this yard. His father, who had a white beard, was rich and handsome, was called "Eshon" in the neighborhood. His mother was petite and had a low voice. Although she had many friends, she got along well with his neighbor, a boy named Jorakul. Jorakul used to make sand houses for her dolls. When they placed their dolls in sand houses, they would lie on the warm soil and have a secret conversation. "When I grow up, I will become a master builder, I will build you a house," Jorakul said. "And I'll be your seamstress, I'll sew do‘ppi for you," said Makhfirat. There was a window between the two courtyards. One day the window was removed and a brick was built instead. The street door was also chained.