Chapter 6: Taken Away

—The next morning, before the sun had fully risen.

The woman woke quietly, took only her smartphone, and left the room in quick strides.

Her gaze never once turned toward Rin.

How much time had passed, she wondered.
As if to break the silence, a voice echoed from the hallway.

It was a scream like a taut string snapping.
Mixed into the hoarse voice were fear, confusion, refusal—multiple emotions tangled together.

It felt as though she could see her lips trembling.
Perhaps she was trying to shake off the fear with her entire body.

She couldn’t make out the exact words of what was being said.
But it was easy enough to imagine.

—The doll moved.
That was likely what she was insisting.

Before long, a man’s voice replied. It was calm, spoken in a quiet tone.
She couldn’t tell what he was saying, either.
But when Rin heard that voice, she finally realized.

—Ah. So that woman had gone to call her “husband.”

But the woman did not back down.

Her breathing grew ragged as she kept pleading in a voice on the verge of tears.
Her words were no longer words at all; her appeal had come close to begging.

Who would believe something like that—the doll moved?
But there was no need to believe it. It only had to be thrown away.
His wife, and a doll he had only just bought—one his wife recoiled from.
There was no need to compare them.

—Unless it held exceptional value, or deep attachment.

Before long, the man seemed to give in; footsteps drew closer—and the door opened.

Rin was lifted up slowly.
She did not resist. There was no reason to.

Without ever seeing the woman, Rin left the hospital room just as she was.

Only a few days earlier, she had treated Rin with such care.
She had combed Rin’s hair, spoken to her, and even offered her a gentle smile.

Rin wanted nothing more than to remain quiet and at peace—if she could be that, it was enough.
Those few days had been calmer than the antique shop, and better tended as well.

—That, too, had already come to an end.