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Fear makes dolls unpredictable. I learned with my second one not to open the door while they’re still throwing things.

“Are you finished?”

“Let me out.” His voice sounds different when he’s angry.

“I asked if you were finished.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

Poor thing doesn’t remember me.

“You know me, sweetheart. I helped you last night.”

“You drugged me.”

“Yes.”

Silence. I wait.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I rest one hand on the cart. His breakfast is getting cold. “Jamie, I need you to move away from the door.”

“My name isn’t Jamie.”

“We can talk about that after you eat.”

“No, we fucking can’t. Open the door.”

“I will when you move back.”

Something hits the door from his side.

I frown. “Don’t do that.”

“Open the fucking door!”

I take the stun baton from the bottom shelf of the cart. “I’m going to open the door, Jamie. You’re going to stand beside the bed and keep your hands to yourself.”

“Or what?”

I switch it on. The sound carries through the door.

Jamie goes quiet again.

“I don’t want to hurt you before you’ve eaten.”

There’s a long pause. Then, “You’re fucking insane.”

I’ll put up with that today. Tomorrow, he has no excuse for bad manners. “Are you beside the bed?”

“Fuck you.”

I wait. A few seconds later, I hear him moving away from the door.

Good boy.

I unlock the door and push it open. Then I stop. For a second, I don’t understand what I’m looking at.