READ DESCRIPTION

it was the 18th century, 1807. when instead of cars and jalopies there were carriages and girls dressed in dresses and gentlemen in their blazers.

The shop of the Dead Matthew Moe reopened where his grandson, the nimble Jack, was in charge, ready to sell Jessica again. He hung her on strings at an auction in his shop, telling about this living, submissive porcelain doll that would play the role of a wife for merchants who would buy her for rent, to amuse their own desires, for example, or just play with this poor thing.

**Jessica opened her melancholic eyes, a light tear rolled down from her eye, as gentle as a stream. she didn't scream, didn't beg for help... she just waited for her next torture, silently praying that she would quickly break apart and be forgotten in the darkness of oblivion... **

The merchants shouted out sum after sum, each one higher than the other. Jack was drunk with greed when he heard the voices of the rich merchants, already about to choose one of the merchants