Natalie had never had a vision like this before. Usually, they were like movies or pictures, something she saw from the outside, but this time was different. She was inside the visions. It was like dreaming and like being there, like she’d been teleported somewhere. If she hadn’t remembered the moments before the visions started, she might have thought she actually was somewhere else.

She stood in the middle of a lightly wooded area. Green leaves rustled above her, casting dappled shadows on the grass and brush. The breeze was pleasantly cool and the little bit of sunlight that struck through the trees was warm. The smell of flowers and green things wafted gently through the air. Natalie guessed it must be spring or early summer.

Looking down at herself, she found she was dressed just as she had been. Nothing strange there. She even had the necklace Jin and Hayato had given her. Its slight weight against her skin was comforting, like an anchor back to reality.

The sound of laughter caught her attention. It was light and high and full of joy. Natalie turned, trying to find the source. The laughter came again. It sounded like a little girl, but not the same laughter they’d heard in the house.

Natalie crept toward the sound cautiously. This vision was so different, she wasn’t sure how her presence would affect things, or even if it would affect things at all. Still, everything felt so real that she couldn’t help behaving as if she were really… wherever this place was.

She crouched behind a bush and carefully peeked over the top. What met her eyes was a scene of idyllic innocence. Beside a small, clear pond stood a thicket of wild roses in full bloom, filling the air with their sweet, fresh scent. In front of the thicket, sat a little girl with shining blonde curls wearing a frilly blue dress. The hem of her dress, her long white socks, her patent leather shoes, and her hands and arms up to her elbows were covered in mud, but she didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, she was grinning as she patted another little mound of mud into shape.

“There!” she said with one last triumphant pat. “That one’s yours Lily.”

Natalie frowned and craned her neck to see who the little girl was talking to. She gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth. There, by the little girl’s side, was The Doll. It had to be the same doll. It had the same dress and bonnet, the same smile and wide eyes. But, here, the smile looked genuine, happy. There was none of the rage Natalie had seen in the doll in the house, Mrs. Beckett’s doll.

“That’s my Mary,” came a voice over her shoulder.

Natalie yelped and turned to find a ghostly specter of the doll floating beside her. It flickered with green light that dripped upward in streams.

“That’s my Mary,” it repeated in a high, wispy voice, a child’s voice. “My Mary. My friend. We had adventures together.”

Natalie followed the doll’s gaze and saw a little girl, Mary, having a tea party with her doll. She had leaves for plates and wildflowers for cups and cookies. She poured from an invisible pot, chattering happily the whole time.

“My Mary took me everywhere. She never forgot me. She never left me behind.”

The doll turned turned to Natalie.

“Where is she?” she asked. “Where did my Mary go?”

Natalie gaped, words wouldn’t come. Such a simple question, asked in the voice of a child. A lost, confused child looking for her best friend. The doll hovered, waiting.

“She’s gone, Lily,” said Natalie gently. “She isn’t coming back.”

“Where did she go?”

Natalie hesitated. How could she explain death to something that didn’t die?

“She’ll be back,” said the doll, turning to watch the tea party. “She left me behind. She never leaves me behind. My Mary wouldn’t.”

The simplicity of Lily’s faith in Mary struck Natalie deeply. It was pure and strong. Natalie wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to convince Lily that Mary had to move on without her this time.

“She isn’t coming back, Lily,” Natalie tried again. “Even if she wanted to, she can’t.”

The doll spun back to face her.

“You’re a liar.” Lily’s face darkened. Clouds gathered overhead. Little Mary’s happy voice carried faintly over the growing wind.

“You’re a liar!” howled Lily, rising into the air. “My Mary wouldn’t leave me!”

Natalie stood and called out to her.

“She didn’t have a choice, Lily! She had to go!”

“Liar! Liar! Liar!”

Tree branches whipped back and forth, and the temperature plummeted. Natalie’s breath misted in the air.

“It’s not a lie! She had to go, Lily!” Natalie wracked her brain, trying to think of a way to explain what happened. “Her body… It… It broke.”

The wind stopped. Sudden silence descended. Lily floated down until her eyes were level with Natalie’s.

“She broke?” asked Lily in a small voice. “My Mary broke?”

Natalie nodded.

“Fix her?”

Natalie’s eyes teared at the hope in Lily’s voice. She shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Lily. She’s gone.”

“No.” Lily drew back. “No. No, no, no…”

“Lily, I’m sorry.” Natalie held a hand out to her. The doll jerked away and began to tremble and shake. She screamed. The forest shattered into glittering shards of black and red and deep purple that fell and splattered on the ground like dark water. It ran in serpent-like rivulets, collecting under the doll in a circular pool, mirror still, even under the howling winds.

“No!” Lily’s childlike voice rose above the wind. “Mary! Break me too! I want to go with you! Mary!” Lily’s words trailed into a wail of grief. Tendrils of dark water lifted upward, seeking toward her. Natalie reached out and took the doll in her arms, cradling it like she would a small child. The darkness spun around her and swept her away.