Page 65 of Collect the Pieces

“No,” Z groans. “I sense where this is going.”

“I wish,” Margot mutters. “Then she asked for coins to be placed in her mother’s hands.”

“Not on her eyes?” Teller asks.

“No. Just her hands.” Margot takes a breath. “There were other things, but these are the most relevant. She also stressed the body couldnotcross the threshold twice. This one wastrickier but also not unusual. Fun fact—that’s why the viewing room has two entrances.”

I picture the layout of Margot’s house. Except for the bathrooms,everyroom I’ve been in on the first floor has at least two entrances. The basement has three, if you count the rickety elevator as an exit.

“The final request was to bury her mother with a doll. At first I thought, aw, that’s sweet, maybe it was something from her childhood that she treasured.”

“Was it a Cabbage Patch kid?” Sparky asks.

“That would’ve been preferable.” Margot shivers. “We bury people with jewelry, photos, love letters—someone even tried to bury her dad with his hunting rifle one time. And of course, children are usually buried with cherished toys.” She stops and takes a breath.

I rub my hand between her shoulder blades.

Swan kneels up on her blanket and raises one hand. “Was it a Matryoshka doll?”

Lilly nods enthusiastically. “That’s what I was thinking too.”

“Kind of.” Margot lifts her hands and shrugs. “A Russian nesting doll. That’s what I thought at first. But it was bigger.” She holds her hands vertically in the air, about twelve inches apart. “It was a dark wood color with intricate carvings. None of the colorful paint I’d seen on nesting dolls before. And, most importantly, it didn’t open. It was very heavy, like it was solid, not hollow with other dolls inside.”

“That’s weird,” Lilly murmurs.

“The weirdest part,” Margot lowers her voice, “was that the mouth was carved wide open?—”

Rav lifts his hand and a dirty smirk spreads over his face. “Like?—”

“Don’t,” I warn.

“Like she was screaming,” Margot finishes without acknowledging Rav’s interruption. “And she had three small, rusty nails hammered into each eye, sticking straight out.”

“Jesus Christ,” someone mutters.

Margot touches her stomach. “And three nails sticking out of her belly button.”

“Gross,” Z groans. “And she wanted her mom buried with that thing?”

Lilly shakes her head vigorously. “Did she tell you it was a Kikimora doll?”

Margot’s eyes widen and she sits back. “Yes,” she breathes out.

“Bullshit!” Rav shouts. “I call bullshit.” He points to Lilly, then Margot. “You two conspired ahead of time.”

Lilly holds both hands in the air. “I swear we didn’t.”

“Watch where you’re pointin’ those fingers, brother,” Z growls at Ravage.

“Jesus Christ,” Birch moans and stares up at the sky. “Nothing scary has even happened yet in this story.” He flashes a quick grin at Margot. “No offense.” His gaze shifts to Rav. “What are you getting so worked up about?”

“Nothing.” Rav crosses his arms over his chest.

“She said it was a good luck doll to help her mother find lost relatives in the afterlife,” Margot continues.

Lilly and Swan both shake their heads vigorously.

“The daughter requested two viewings and a wake before the burial.” Margot holds her hands up. “She was paying, so we did exactly as she requested. But because of the threshold rule, we had to leave the casket in the viewing room overnight.”

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