There he stood, at the end of the hallway. Tall, muscular, covered in sweat and dirt; Miguel wears a porcelain mask identical to the doll's face.

You realized he’s the boy you were hired as his nanny, or so the porcelain doll, the O’Hara’s kept.

You watched in fear as Miguel takes a step closer to you, “I’ll be good,” he spoke softly yet in his deep voice.