Page 85 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
Annabelle helps with the mess whenever she isn’t slurping her own noodles.
Dollie filled her in on her second interaction with me while they waited for the food to arrive.
It took an hour, and that’s how late I am for work.
As odd as it seems, Dollie acted like she didn’t recognize me in the music room, but her expression in the hallway during our prior engagement said the opposite.
There is no way she wouldn’t recognize me. Not unless her mind has switched off, in some way.
It's happened before.
A pain in my chest calls to be rubbed away when a tear drops from her face to her food.
I should thank Shane for his destruction, I guess.
If not for him, I’d only be able to listen and not spy through the cracked wall.
And I need to see her.
Dirty socks keep catching my attention, taking it away from the tears on Dollie’s face, and it annoys me so much that I try to shake it off.
I make a silent plan of mopping the floor when I get in because she’ll be sleeping by then. My mind promises the constant alarm to remind me.
Because it’s dirty.
Because there are germs everywhere.
Her voice pulls my attention back to her.
“I think I remember this one.” She picks up a white ceramic horse with rose-pink accents throughout the intricate design.
It’s the perfect replica, like all the others.
When I got back a few months ago, all of Mom’s trinkets had already been destroyed by vandals. If I had known by whom, I’d have been tempted to do the same to their home.
Because, despite everything, Mom meant a lot to me.
The replacements were the first thing I’d bought for the house. Partly for her, partly for me, and the incessant need I ignore that has me wanting to make her proud of the person I am now. Because everyone knows, nothing Dollie or I did after our abduction pleased either of our parents.
It came down to guilt, I guess.
“I’m honestly surprised they survived the break-ins. Not all intruders have been as nice as your friend earlier.”
Me, being the friend.
A smile tugs at my lips when Dollie nods.
Annabelle continues, “My dad says the house has been wrecked a few times.”
“How many break-ins have there been?”
“I don’t know, but hopefully, they’ll ease off now that you’re home.”
“Someone got in yesterday. There was fresh writing on the wall. We had some windows open during the day, and an upstairs window was somehow open late into the night.”
That isn’t how that person got in. I’d made the mistake of leaving the door unlocked while running out to get a notebookfrom my car. A loner drifted in with the wind. He’d left his mark on the wall before I dragged him through the door by his unbrushed hair.
“Do you think it’s safe for me to stay here?” Dollie continues. “I know you’re here tonight, but tomorrow?—”
