Chapter Eleven
Phoebe began to suspect her Clawdeen doll. She was just a doll, Phoebe thought. She didn't understand this unnatural feeling.
A doll didn't come alive. A doll didn't murder her doll friends.
A doll didn't kill people.
But Clawdeen did.
Phoebe and Marlee had a sleepover a few weeks after the Frankie incident. Ever since Frankie died, Phoebe had slept in her parents room, without her dolls. She was too scared to do anything else. Her parents wanted a night without their daughter, they wanted their bed to themselves again. They'd gotten her a cot, but she never slept in it. The police hadn't found anything suspicious, and they left the case alone. Phoebe's daddy had installed cameras all over the house, and baby monitors were in every room.
Phoebe was very excited for Marlee to come over. She would feel safe with her best friend, besides Phillip, of course. But Phillip was a boy. Her couldn't come over.
When Marlee arrived, she and Phoebe ran straight to her room and began to play with her dolls, Marlee played with Clawdeen and Phoebe with Abbey.
That was a very bad idea.
When they went to sleep, Marlee felt very tired. She slept right away, as did Phoebe. They both slept soundly, all night.
But Marlee never woke up.
In the morning, Phoebe rolled over to poke Marlee. She was very hungry, and wanted breakfast right away. Instead of poking her, Phoebe screamed. Blood streamed from a huge knife in Marlee's chest. Marlee's eyes rolled back in her head, distant and unseeing.
Phoebe's best friend had been stabbed, and Phoebe thought she knew who did it.
