The Whispering Doll

11. The Eerie Shadow

Jamie abruptly shut the box, her fingers trembling slightly.

Sandra, just waking up, noticed her pale complexion and frowned. "What's wrong?"

Jamie looked up and slowly pushed the box toward her. "It came back."

Sandra opened it, and her expression instantly turned grave.

"Wasn't this thing buried in the cemetery last night?" Sandra asked in a low voice.

Jamie took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "It didn't come back on its own… Someone—or something—brought it back."

Her gaze fell upon the small note inside the box, a chill creeping up her spine.

Sandra remained silent for a few seconds before saying, "We need to find out where this doll really came from."

12. The Doll's Past

Through antique collector forums, Jamie finally uncovered information about this type of burial doll.

In the late Qing Dynasty, when children from wealthy families died young, their families would commission porcelain dolls to house their souls—so they wouldn't be lonely in the afterlife.

However, if these dolls were lost or desecrated, they would find their way home.

Jamie's fingertips turned cold as she read the passage. She murmured, "It's looking for its family… but its family has been dead for a long time."

Sandra closed the laptop, her expression unreadable. "So now, it sees you as its 'sister'."

Jamie felt a shiver run down her spine, her lips slightly dry. "But… I don't know it."

Sandra contemplated for a moment, then asked, "Did anything unusual happen to you when you were a child?"

Jamie hesitated.

Somewhere deep in her memory… there was a forgotten moment.

13. Echoes of Childhood

Jamie dug out her old photo albums and began flipping through them carefully.

Her fingers stopped on a faded photograph.

It showed her as a young girl, standing in the courtyard of her childhood home.

And beside her—stood a little girl in a red traditional dress.

The girl had a faint, blurred smile, her black glassy eyes staring directly at the camera.

Jamie's heart pounded violently, her fingers trembling against the photograph.

"What… I don't remember her at all," she whispered.

Sandra took the picture and studied it for a moment before speaking in an unsettlingly calm voice. "This means you had some connection with her as a child. Maybe she was once part of your life, but for some reason, you forgot her."

Jamie's breathing quickened, her grip on the photograph tightening.

If that doll was the girl in the picture… who was she?

And more importantly—why had she come back?

14. The Whisper in the Night

That night, Jamie lay in bed, restless and unable to sleep.

Outside, the world was eerily still. No wind. No sounds.

"Sister…"

A soft whisper brushed against her ear, as if a little girl was murmuring just beside her.

Jamie's eyes snapped open.

The room was silent, illuminated only by the dim glow of the streetlight filtering through the curtains.

She reached for her phone.

3:00 AM.

Everything appeared normal, yet an overwhelming feeling of being watched settled over her.

Her pulse quickened.

Slowly… she turned her head towards the bedroom door.

At the bottom of the door frame—

A pair of small, shadowy feet had appeared.

Jamie's throat went dry. She could barely breathe.

The tiny feet stood motionless just outside the door, as if waiting for her to come and open it.

"Sister, open the door."

The voice was gentle. Soft. Right against her ear.

Jamie clenched the bedsheet tightly, her nails digging into her palm.

She did not dare move.

She knew—

If she opened that door, it would come inside.

15. Returning What Was Lost

Jamie didn't sleep at all.

As soon as dawn broke, she called Sandra. "We need to return the doll. Now."

Sandra sounded just as exhausted. "I told you that from the beginning."

They drove back to the graveyard, bringing the doll's severed arm and the porcelain tooth with them.

As they buried everything deep in the earth, Jamie whispered, "If you were meant to be here… I'll send you home."

The wind rustled through the abandoned cemetery, making the tall grass sway.

For a fleeting moment, Jamie thought she heard a soft, distant laugh—a whisper of gratitude.

But this time, there was no tug at her sleeve.

No faint giggling behind her.

No cold whisper in her ear.

Sandra patted her shoulder. "Let's go. It should be over now."

Jamie nodded silently.

This time, she truly hoped it was over.

16. Epilogue: The Final Shadow

Back home, Jamie collapsed onto the couch, exhaustion finally catching up with her.

Her phone vibrated.

She absentmindedly picked it up.

A new text message had appeared.

Sender: Unknown Number

Message: "Sister, goodbye."

Jamie's fingers froze. Her breath caught in her throat.

Her gaze drifted toward the mirror in the living room.

And in the reflection—

Standing right behind her—

Was a little girl in a red traditional dress, smiling softly.