Page 63 of All the Things We Buried

I turned to face her, my pulse a steady throb in my temples. I took a slow step forward.

“What is happening?” I asked, pressing my hands to my head.

“The first ghost was Wrath,” she said, brushing the doll’s hair with her fingers. “He came home dead from the war, and his anger soaked into the walls. You can feel it when you sleep.”

Her voice was soft; she’d said this many times before.

“Then came Lust, the second ghost. He loved too much. Everything that moved, he tried to make his. Then Sloth, he’s the third. He doesn’t walk. He crawls.”

She looked up briefly, her eyes blank.

“The fourth ghost is Greed. He steals. He always steals. Fifth is Envy. Always watching. Always wanting. Sixth is Gluttony. He choked. Stuffed himself until his heart stopped.”

She paused, placing the doll carefully in her lap.

“And the seventh... is Pride. He chose never to die. He decided forever was better.”

I stared at her. The doll’s glass eyes caught the light as she brushed its hair again.

“They all died in this house. Except one. Mommy said if we want to live forever, we just have to stay here. Everyone wanted that.”

“Who is everyone?” I asked.

“You hear them too.” She tilted her head. “They never chose to die.”

“Who?” I whispered.

She looked past me, her voice lowering.

“They’re buried in the walls. All of them. The house needed to live, so they gave themselves to it. Every year, someone crosses into this place... and survives.”

“No. This is a dream,” I said, starting to hit my forehead with my palm. “This isn’t real.”

“You heard them,” she said. “They always call. Three times. Eighteen voices.”

My breathing grew shallow.

“They haunt you... because of her.”

I froze. “Who?”

“The wet lady,” she said. “She’s always in the bathtub, crying.”

The girl hugged the doll tightly.

“She’s always sad. She died from a broken heart.”

Then, the dollhouse began to shift.

It moved slowly, grinding against the floorboards, its base groaning like it was alive. Loose papers fluttered from beneath it, and one flew toward me, clinging to my hand.

I looked down.

“Sophie?” I read the name aloud, stunned.

“Yes,” the girl said without looking up.

My vision blurred for a moment. I blinked hard, staring at her face.