Miranda came home from school sobbing that day. “Oh, Sarabeth, it’s so awful!” She cried. “It’s so awful…” Her voice trailed away. The new bruise on her face said everything.

Miranda and Sarabeth had a bit of a ritual on days like this. Miranda would go into the bathroom and wash her face, while the doll waited patiently. Then, she would return to her bedroom, and pull her secret from Sarabeth’s pocket.

Sarabeth would look on with a placid face while Miranda sliced her wrist open, again and again. She would not complain when the blood spattered onto her dress, would not flinch at these new wounds covering old scars. They did this day in and day out.

But today Miranda’s friend Megan came to visit, rather unannounced.

“Oh my god. What happened?”