Page 85 of She’s a Doll

I’m missing a few more pieces.

“I noticed. Also, no offense, but you smell moldy. The bad sort of moldy.”

There’s a good sort of moldy?

“With your consent, I would like to either douse you in bleach or get rid of your fabric components entirely.”

By fabric components you mean my body. You want to rip my head off my body.

“And then give you a cooler, more fungus-resistant body, yes.”

I looked at the scrappy remnants of my chest. The fabric poking out from the frayed edge of the duct tape was looking a little . . . fuzzy. And yet the idea of getting rid of my torso entirely made what little insides I had left feel twisty and cold.

It was irrational. My legs were smashed, my wooden arm starting to splinter, my head one bad turn away from rolling off my body. If anyone was in need of an extreme makeover, it was me. So long as Ghost Lore Fact #4 held true⁠—when you possess an object, you don’t possess the molecules, or the material; you possess that object as a concept⁠—I had nothing to fear. If my limbs could be switched out, then there was no reason to assume my whole body couldn’t be as well.

But still . . .

This new fungus-resistant beach bod better be cool, I said.

Nicola smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a couple of ideas. They’re not very original ideas, but you were a bride doll, so⁠—”

Hey. Don’t knock my bride-doll era. It was a look.

“It was a clichéd look.”

You have an infinity tattoo.

“Touché.”

What were you thinking? For my new body?

“I’ll show you. You’re gonna⁠—” Her phone buzzed. Her eyes flicked back to the screen and widened. “Holy shit.”

She ejaculated, I whispered.

“Stop being a creep. This is huge. This is . . . you were right. Ginger says she did lose touch with a friend around then, a friend with brown hair. She moved to Sydney suddenly right after Christmas. Ginger doesn’t think she’s Sandy Brown, but⁠—”

But Ginger doesn’t think a lot of things. Those words felt thorny in my mind, the roots of them deeper and darker than I wanted to admit.

Nicola pushed off the table and started pacing. “This could be it. This could be the key. If Kyle did something to Ginger’s friend and she’s willing to come forward⁠—”

If she was willing to come forward, she already would’ve.

“Maybe if we talk to her. Maybe she’ll change her mind.”

Plan C, I said. Try to convince someone we don’t know to take him to court.

“It’s better than nothing,” Nicola insisted. “Plan A is crazy. Plan B didn’t work. Maybe whatever happened with Sandy Brown could get him locked up.”

If it could, then she would’ve gone to the police, don’t you think? If it was a rock-solid case, if there was evidence, if there was a chance.

“Look. I know it’s not what you wanted⁠—”

It’s not what you wanted either, I reminded her. You wanted his reputation ruined. You wanted everyone to see him for what he is.

“I want him behind bars,” Nicola said. “I don’t care about the details anymore. I don’t care if this town never sees the truth. I just want him⁠—”

Away from Ginger? I guessed.