A musty smell, old but not unpleasant, seeped from inside. The dying embers of daylight forced their way through the ragged curtains, casting a crimson tint, illuminating an archaic wooden crib in the centre of the room. That wasn’t the problem though. It was the walls. They were lined with shelves, from floor to ceiling, and on those shelves were perched hundreds and hundreds of dolls. ‘You’re kidding me on,’ whispered Hannah.
