As her raw words mingled with more weeping, he knew he had to silence her. Dolls were not supposed to speak, and Destiny was not supposed to cry.
He moved to his worktable and hurriedly dumped a powder into a glass. As she shrieked louder and pounded on the door, he added fruit-flavored water because he knew she’d like the taste.
Mixing the drink with a straw, he stood beside her. “Here, drink,” he said, raising the straw to her lips.
She slapped at his hand. Red drink sloshed on her white skin. “Get away from me. I’m not drinking anything else.”
“You have to drink,” he coaxed. “It will help you, and when you wake up, you will be just like you were.”
“How can I be who I was? This shit is all over me.” Her hands clutched into fists, she slowly slid down the wall to the floor, her legs crumpling under her like a real doll.
“I promise. Drink this and you will be fine. You’ll see.” He pressed the tip of the straw to her lips that now always smiled. “Drink.”
“I don’t want to drink.” She tried to stand but couldn’t rise. “I want to go home.”
“And I want you to go home.”
The Dollmaker wiped the tear from her cheek with his fingertip, pleased that her face remained unspoiled. No smudged mascara. No faded blush or lipstick. “It’s okay.”
She stared up at him, eyes large with fear and hope. Finally, she sipped, her throat and mouth clearly parched.
When she finished, he pulled the straw away and dabbed the corners of her mouth. “You like the taste of cherry, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“That’s a good girl.”
As she stared up at him, her breathing hitched as she tried to suck in air. She drew a stuttering breath. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s okay. This is what’s supposed to happen.” The Dollmaker smoothed his hand over her bald head, already eager to put the wig back on her. “Soon your lungs won’t work at all and you will stop breathing forever.”
“What?” she gasped.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be right here with you. I would never leave you alone at a time like this.”
“You’re killing me?” Her voice was now a hoarse whisper.
“No. I’m finishing the job.”
The doll tried to speak, to scream, but her lungs were paralyzed. She was afraid, but her fear would soon fade. Gently, he tilted her back so that he could peer into her eyes and watch as the life drained from her body.
Her hand rose to his arm in one final attempt to cling to life. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone who teetered so close to death.
He let her hold on to him, smiling and touching her cheek gently. “Shh. Just let go.
”
Her fingers twitched and slackened a fraction. No more tears pooled or ran down her painted cheeks. Death pulled.
The Dollmaker leaned forward and kissed those still-warm lips. Slowly her fingers slackened and her hand fell away, and all the remaining energy faded from her body.
When her eyes closed, he removed a clean tissue from his pocket and wiped her face, savoring the peaceful stillness that settled over her.
God, she was a perfect creation. In all his years of practice, he’d never made anything so beautiful.
“Death has made you my permanent little Destiny doll.”
He kissed her lips again, savoring the sweet tranquility. “I wish I could keep you forever, but we only have a few hours. But, don’t worry, I’ll be as careful as always. You’ll see how much I love you.”