She smells a subtle sweetish smell that settles on the tongue with sticky saliva, and she has to swallow often, often to get rid of the cloying taste. He is familiar to her. To pain. To goosebumps and a frozen heart in the chest. She is afraid to open her eyes, but someone else's breath touches her face and forces her to do it - to plunge into the present, where she stands at the table and watches in horror as you cut the ties on the ankles of the Carol doll. Dead, of course. The light from the candle flame falls on your back, covers the hair at the...