♥ Jessica ♥
Lewis Peterson watched the girl on the mattress and decided she still looked too human.
Emma, he reminded himself. Emily Brown didn’t exist in this room. Here, she was his new doll. The others had never understood the difference, but he did. Toys were plastic and hollow. Dolls were precious. Dolls were kept safe.
He stood in the doorway of the little house and admired his work. Soft white walls. Pale curtains that never opened. A bed with a pink quilt. A small couch. A table set for one. The tiny bathroom with the lock on the outside. Everything is clean. Everything is controlled.
Emma sat where he had told her to sit, back against the headboard, knees tucked under the quilt. The rope at her wrists disappeared neatly beneath the fabric. Only the slight tension in her should
