The Dollmaker's curse

Marcy always thought the attic held nothing but dust and forgotten boxes.
She never expected the trunk-carved, heavy, and filled with porcelain dolls that seem far too aware.

They start small: a tilt of a head, a shift of a hand, a whisper she blames on the wind.
But the accidents that follow are harder to dismiss.
The dolls aren't just moving.
They're remembering.
And they want her to remember too.

When a doll appears with Marcy's own features carved into its face, she realizes the truth:
some family curses aren't passed down through blood,
but through the things we inherit without question.

The dolls want to complete their story.
And they've chosen Marcy to finish it.