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In the dark, her hand settles around my throat.

I stay exactly where she puts me.

EPILOGUE

Heather

Jamie takes forty-three minutes to choose napkins.

I let him because this is his first outing, and he’s behaved beautifully for six months.

He stands in the middle of the party aisle with three packages held against his chest. One has pink flowers, one has blue, and the third has gold stripes that don’t belong near the glasses already in our cart.

“The pink,” Simon says. He keeps both hands on the cart as though Jamie might fill it with everything within reach if he lets go. “Put the other two back.”

Jamie turns toward Oliver. “What do you think?”

“I think napkins exist to protect clothing from food.” Oliver takes the striped package from him and examines it. “These are attempting to make the food feel underdressed.”

Jamie returns the gold ones to the shelf. He keeps the flowers.

I chose his clothes this morning. His black skirt reaches just above his knees, and the pale blue shirt tucked into it has small pearl buttons that match the beads on his bracelet. His hair falls loose over his shoulders because I want people to see it.

A woman pushes her cart into the aisle, notices Jamie and smiles. Her attention moves to the choker at his throat, then to his hand in mine.

Jamie smiles back. One smile is enough. I tighten my fingers around his. He moves closer until our shoulders touch.

The woman reaches for a package of cups without looking at him again.

Much better.

Simon takes the floral napkins from Jamie and puts them in the cart. “We still need cream, strawberries, and whatever you were planning to put those stupid umbrellas in.”

“I haven’t chosen the umbrellas yet,” Jamie says. He stops beside a display containing paper fans, plastic flowers and several hundred tiny drink decorations. “These have flamingos.”

“We aren’t putting flamingos in my lemonade.”

“It’s Heather’s lemonade.”

Simon looks at me. “Tell him it’s my lemonade.”

“You made it in my kitchen.”

Oliver moves past us and removes a box of paper straws from the display. He reads the back before putting it into the cart.

Simon looks down. “Those will dissolve.”

“They’re biodegradable.”

“They’re garbage.”

Oliver adjusts his glasses. “Those positions are not mutually exclusive.”

Jamie adds the flamingos while Simon is looking at Oliver.

Taking all three dolls outside requires more work than taking one. They need proper clothes, clear instructions, and enough responsibility to keep their attention from wandering toward whatever the world has left available.

Jamie carries my purse. Oliver has the list. Simon controls the cart and every food item inside it. None of them has tried to leave.