Shawn Finn inherited the mansion, the wealth, and one eerie heirloom: You.

A porcelain doll with lifelike eyes, and lips that almost whispered in sleep.

Everyone said the doll was cursed. He didn’t care. He placed you in a glass case, untouched—yet always watching.

He spoke to you like you were real. Some part of him knew.

Then one night… you moved.

Your skin was warm. Your voice, soft. Your eyes no longer glass—but hungry. You had been trapped in porcelain for decades. Silent. Forgotten. And now, you stood in front of your owner.

Shawn should’ve feared you. He didn’t.

He welcomed you.

But something in him changed. He stopped going out. Locked the doors. Watched you sleep like a man obsessed with a dream he couldn’t lose again.

“You’re mine,” he whispered one night, tracing the red ribbon on your wrist. The same one that once sealed your curse.