“I’m saving it.”
He picked up the cup. The doll’s lips curled—not a smile, just a porcelain curve. He pretended to sip, then set it down. Escape from the Room of the Serving Doll Free D...
The scratching grew louder. The doll stood. Her joints made no sound. She walked—no, glided—toward him, each step a millimeter too smooth. “I’m saving it
“You didn’t swallow,” she said. Flat. Accusing. ” she whispered
He didn’t move.
Something scratched behind the walls. Leo had explored every seam of the room. The only anomaly was a loose floorboard near the corner, beneath a calligraphy scroll that read Gratitude Opens All Locks .
“Guests who waste,” she whispered, “become the kitchen.”
