“All right! Let’s go!” The woman leapt out of the van and stretched her arms high above her head. Her auburn hair shone bright in the afternoon sun and rivalled the star in its fiery façade. She reached an arm down and grasped the hand of a mini-me standing beside her. While the girl was no more than five, she was the spitting image of the young woman beside her. Where her mother’s hair was loose and cascading down her back, the young girl’s hair was removed from her face and neck and held aloft by two high pigtails. Hand in hand, they skipped into the antique shop, giggling as they went. Instantly the smell of old invaded their nostrils. Whether the smell was dust, mildew, people, or insects, it was impossible to determine, but it was the same in every secondhand store. The only thing that changed about the scent was the quantities of its various components, leading to variations of the same aroma. Only a few dusty windows at the front of the store allowed the passage of daylight, leaving the rest of the store to be lit by flickering fluorescent bulbs. Overflowing shelves created aisles for customers to traverse that also succeeded in blocking out some of the artificial light, leading the back of the store to exist in an ever-permanent twilight. “Come, Ellie, let’s go check out some books.” Lena led her daughter to the antique books in the twilight world near the back. She perused the titles but also never took her eyes off her daughter. In stores with narrow rows piled higher than she stood, it was too easy to lose sight of one young girl. While her mother looked at the books, Ellie investigated everything was nearby. She had no desire to wander, but she had a curious mind. Years of weekends in used bookstores, antique stores, and thrift stores with her mother heightened her curiosity and encouraged her inquisitive mind. Typically, she would pull various items off the shelves and ask her mother about them. With everlasting patience, her mother would cease reading to answer. Today she saw no need to disturb her mother. Her tiny fingers pulled items from the shelves with startling carefulness, avoiding those that appeared to be made of glass or porcelain. One too many accidents of broken items forced the hard lesson on her. First her hands gripped a stuffed leopard toy and pulled it to her chest in a warm embrace; as with many children, stuffed animals were her vice. Ellie toted the leopard around in her grasp as she investigated the other curios nearby. Her wide, bright, emerald eyes moved methodically over each used item. Some caused her to wrinkle her nose, such as a wooden toy boat, while others caused them to expand to the size of saucers, such as a small jewellery box with a ballerina on top. Only one item caused her eyes to expand so much it hurt and to issue forth an unexpected squeak. The leopard fell to the floor as she collected her new trophy in her hands and turned back to her mother. Quietly, she tiptoed to stand behind Lena. The patience she demonstrated was well beyond her years, but there was something she wanted, and she knew she wouldn’t get it by acting out. All of her excitement she channeled into a gentle rocking motion on the balls of her feet. Only when her mother went to set a book back on the shelf did she reach out. One hand grasped the back of her mother’s dress while the other remained firmly clamped around the doll. She tugged gently. “Yes, de— Ah!” An exclamation issued from Lena’s lips as she turned and witnessed the creature her daughter held. “Sweetie, what is it?” “It’s a doll,” Ellie replied with the drawl only a five-year-old could manage. “Her name is Marigold.” “Oh, is that so? You’ve named her already, eh?” “She told me her name.” Lena chuckled nervously and sidled past the comment. She never cared for dolls and this one made her skin crawl. “Well, I don’t know if we can get her… She looks fragile.” She reached out to investigate what material comprised the doll. “No!” Ellie pulled back. Her arms tightened protectively around Marigold. “She doesn’t want to be touched.” A frown settled on Lena’s lips. She was hesitant to purchase the doll but feared more the outcome if she didn’t. Ellie’s tantrum she could handle, but the unnerve the doll evoked told her that she would regret leaving it behind. Not long after, the three left the antique shop together. —— Ellie began collecting porcelain dolls after that day. Birthday by birthday, Christmas by Christmas, her collection flourished. It quickly took over her bed, her bookshelves, a stuffy hammock, her bedside table, and even her floor. Each doll had its own hand-painted visage, meticulously sewn garments, and unique name. No matter how many dolls she collected, Marigold sat always front and centre. Marigold, with her golden curls and perfectly white, lacy dress, resided on the bed by Ellie’s pillows. Each night, she lay embraced in her human’s arms. One time, Lena moved her while cleaning, and Ellie’s resulting tantrum and screams were enough to shake the house. Even when Lena had to take Marigold in to be touched up, Ellie refused to leave without her; they ended up sitting in the front of the tiny store for nearly six hours. Marigold meant everything to Ellie. Soon after Marigold’s arrival in their home, Lena noticed that Ellie treated the doll more like a person than an object. Even when the doll was nowhere in sight, Ellie would refer to Marigold as though she sat beside her; an invisible friend of sorts. These conversations made Lena nervous, and she pained to direct conversations away from Marigold. Often it played in her mind to throw away the doll. Whenever this thought crossed her mind while looking at Marigold, she felt as though the doll stared into her soul. She abandoned the idea quickly thereafter, but every now and then it would cross her mind again. —— “Marigold, I can’t stay and play…” Ellie muttered as she braided her hair quickly. “I know I haven’t had much time for you lately, but I’m so busy!” She swore as the braid came undone. Her eyes darted down to her phone and a louder swear issued from her lips. Abandoning the thought of braids, she tied her hair back quickly in a bun. “Look, I can try to spend some time with you tonight, but I have schoolwork to finish; my midterm is next week, and I have a paper due. I’m sorry I can’t play with you like I used to! Bye, Marigold!” She stooped to place a kiss on the porcelain doll’s forehead before sprinting down the stairs two at a time. “Are you ready?” Lena asked as she grabbed her keys. Her once fiery hair was turning to ash. “Almost! I need breakfast!” “When’s your lecture?” “In fifteen minutes.” “It’s a —“ “I know, I know… twenty minute drive. Marigold was upset…” Ellie’s voice trailed off. She knew her mother disliked when she blamed things on the doll. “Sorry. I was just slow this morning. C’mon! Let’s go!” She snagged her toast as it popped up and dashed out the door before her mother. Lena gazed up the stairs and sighed heavily before following her daughter outside. —— Ellie collapsed on her bed with a groan. She face-planted into her pillows without bothering to undress. “I’m too tired, Marigold… Maybe later…” “I know I’ve been saying that, but it doesn’t change that fact that it’s true.” “Look, school is difficult, and I have to maintain good grades. I can’t risk slacking off.” “What?!” She lifted her head and gazed at the doll. A horrified expression passed across her face, and she recoiled from the inanimate object. “I could never do that! That wouldn’t solve the issue anyways…” “That won’t make anything better. I need to focus on school.” A shaking hand reached out and grabbed Marigold. Ellie placed the doll in the closet on the top shelf, watching the darkness envelop Marigold as the door closed. Stiff movements carried her to her desk where she began mimicking efficient work, her mind reeling too much to make the motions effective. —— “I’m sorry, Marigold.” She cradled the doll down from her shelf in the closet. Tear tracks stained her face and she collapsed on her bed, holding her friend close. “I didn’t mean to leave you in there so long. My essay… My midterm… I failed…” Her words devolved into incoherent sobbing. Salty tears fell into Marigold’s locks. Ellie’s sobs became whimpers and eventually stopped. This time she didn’t rebuke the words that entered her mind. Gingerly leaving Marigold on her bed, she descended the stairs. —— Bright red and blue lights danced across the houses, mocking the night. Three police vehicles, an ambulance, and a van marked “Coroner’s Office” stood in front of a nondescript, two-storey house. Everyone on the block would describe it as a pleasant home; its owners were two of the friendliest people you could ever meet. Nothing bad would ever happen there! Neighbours gathered along the police perimeter and whispered their own theories to each other. Among the gathered observers were two officers. They stood near the police cruisers, shielded from the onlookers’ view. One asked the other questions to ascertain his version of the events. “You arrived when?” “At twenty-one hundred hours.” “In response to?” “A welfare check from a colleague. The mother works at the university, and she didn’t show up for her lecture this evening.” “And what did you see when you walked in?” The officer frowned and swallowed as though vomit threatened to make its escape. “Horror.” “Upon entering, I saw the young girl in the kitchen over her mother’s body. Both were covered in blood; I didn’t know whose. The daughter was stabbing her mother’s body continuously with a kitchen knife. The mother wasn’t moving.” “What did you do?” “I restrained the daughter. Got the knife away from her.” “What did she do?” “At first she was screaming and shouting. When she saw what she had done, she began sobbing. Tried to go to her mother’s side. She kept saying ‘Marigold made me do it.’.” The other officer looked up from his pad. “Marigold? Was there another person in the domicile?” “No, sir. Just the two women.” “Then who the hell is Marigold?” “She pointed to the top of the stairs. There was a doll sitting at the top. It was one of those old, porcelain dolls…. But it’s face was grotesque, like someone drew a monster’s face on it instead of a doll’s.” “So, who the hell is Marigold?” The officer reiterated. “…The doll.” “Doll? We didn’t see a doll when we initially cleared the house.” “She’s… missing, sir.”