The doll’s eyelids bounced when she was jostled, but it was only the ordinary mechanical imitation of a blink; she was otherwise unerringly inanimate in the presence of adults. It was only when mother left and closed the door that the lids blinked on their own, the mouth changed from the artificial smile to a menacing scowl, the plastic hands searched for something to tear apart. She wouldn’t have had far to go to reach my sleeping head.
If not for plush Elephant, resolutely patrolling at the foot of the bed, she would have killed me. I know that now.