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When it gave her comfort, she’d taken it. When it offered to help, she’d accepted. She hadn’t known there’d be a cost. How could she have? She’d been a child, lost and afraid, the night closing in. She would have trusted a wolf had it promised her deliverance.
“Please don’t ask me to leave,” he said, before she could say otherwise. “Because I’ll go if you tell me to, but I won’t feel good about it.”
No matter how hard she played at being a girl, at the end of the day she was nothing more than a doll on a music box, forced to turn and turn by the hand that wound her spring.
