Ruby flew
out of bed, heart hammering, and rushed to her parents’ room. Her mother was
standing in front of the dresser, her face pale as she stared at the doll. It
was no longer sitting peacefully where she had left it. It was lying on its
side, one arm outstretched as if it had tried to crawl away during the night.
And the
crack—Ruby’s eyes widened. The crack on the doll’s face had split wide open,
revealing a hollow darkness underneath, as if something had tried to break
free.
“Mom,” Ruby
whispered, her voice trembling, “I told you. I told you it’s not just a doll.”
Her
father, who had come to stand beside her, looked at the doll with growing
unease. “Maybe we should get rid of it,” he said quietly.
“No!” Ruby
blurted out, surprising even herself. She didn’t want to let the doll go, not
now, not after everything that had happened. She had to understand it—had to
know why it was happening. “I’ll take care of it,” she said, her voice suddenly
calm. “I promise. Just don’t get rid of it.”
Her
parents exchanged worried glances, but they agreed. They were too shaken to
argue, and Ruby felt a strange surge of determination. She took the doll back
to her room, holding it tightly, and sat down on the bed.
“Who are
you?” she whispered, staring into the doll’s empty eyes. “What do you want from
me?”
The room
was silent, but she could feel the weight of the doll in her hands, heavier
than it had ever felt before. She knew, deep down, that the answers she was
searching for were hidden somewhere in the darkness behind those cracked
porcelain eyes.
And she
was going to find them, no matter what.
