The Admirer: The Doll Collector Sequel

Chapter 3: Kristopher

In the morning, I opened the door to the doll room, spotting Maria curled up on the bed with Eloise.

A pillow was tucked underneath her abdomen as she held a pained expression on her face. Her leg was up to her chest, with her arm comfortably nestled underneath the pillow holding her head. Maybe it was true that all women slept that way.

My eyes dropped to the mattress. There were no signs of stains, thank goodness.

She moaned quietly, curling tighter around her pillow.

Then it hit me.

She hadn't escaped.

A warm sensation bubbled through my chest, but I pushed it away and made my way to the kitchen, leaving the room door open.

It meant nothing that she hadn't escaped. She is testing you as much as you are testing her.

That horrid little voice inside of my head had been so active since Maria had arrived. It was becoming so natural to have such ball busting inner monologues.

She wasn't feeling well, she wasn't going to go anywhere in her condition. That was the only reason.

The smell of sausages and pancakes invited Eloise into the kitchen, too. She brushed up against my leg before scurrying to her bowl.

Her head bobbed up and down as she munched on her kibble.

I set our breakfast on two plates, turning just in time to find Maria at the archway entrance of the kitchen.

The neck of my shirt was hanging off of her shoulder.

Her hair was slightly disheveled with some strands sticking out in different directions.

My sweatpants hung loosely off of her hips. She had rolled the waistband several times so it would somewhat fit.

I looked down at the plates as I set them on the table and offered her a seat, if she was hungry. She pulled out a chair as I went towards the fridge to pour us each a glass of orange juice.

A movement near the window caught my attention.

It was the neighbor boy, Taylor. A yes, the waste of space.

He stared directly at me through his own kitchen window. Our gazes held each other's until his tart sister made her morning appearance. Taylor looked over his shoulder at Angela's cut-off t-shirt. He turned back to me and shut the curtains.

A snarky comment was in order, but there was only so much I could say about Angela. I'd probably said it all at this point.

Maria thanked me quietly as I handed her the glass of orange juice.

"Are you feeling better this morning?" I asked.

"Yeah... my uterus is just casually falling out now." she replied.

I stared at her, unsure of whether she was really joking with me or if uteruses actually did fall out.

"Um, seeing as though I'm now privy to your bodily functions; you've been here for 6 months. Why are you just now getting your period?"

"Sometimes, when a woman is under tremendous stress, her period is delayed. When my brother died, I didn't get my period for 4 months." she said.

"Your brother died?"

"...Yes, he did."

She pushed around a piece of pancake, avoiding my gaze.

"What happened? If you don't mind me asking..."