John hid a smile, remembering. Jessica will like Ella, Charlie had once confided to John. She dresses like her. But when Charlie had spun the wheel at the end of her bed, the one that made Ella glide out from the closet on her track, proffering her little tea tray, Jessica took one look at the toddler-size doll, screamed, and ran out of the room.

“Yeah, the creepy doll,” he confirmed, his thoughts returning to the present. Jessica made an exaggerated shudder.

“I don’t know how she could ever sleep, knowing that thing was in the closet.”

“It wasn’t the only closet,” John said, furrowing his brow. “There were two more; Ella was in the littlest one.”

“Well, it wasn’t the location that creeped me out; I’m fine with closets … I take that back, I didn’t like the last one we were in,” Jessica said drily.

“I wish I could go back to that house—”

“Charlie’s old house? It collapsed; it’s gone,” Jessica interrupted him, and he sighed.

“Ella turned up in the wreckage, but Clay said Charlie wasn’t interested in keeping her. It seemed so unlike her; her father made that doll for her.”

“Yeah.” Jessica stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, letting everything sink in. “You were right, John.” She opened her hands in a helpless gesture. “The other Charlie, she’s an imposter; you were right. So, what do we do?”

John looked down again at Charlie, who stirred in her sleep. “Charlie?” he whispered.

She made a plaintive sound, then was still again.

John glanced thoughtfully at his dresser. After a moment, he went to it and began digging through the top drawer.

“What are you looking for?” Jessica asked.

“There was an old photo, one I found when Charlie and I were looking through her dad’s stuff. It was Charlie when she was little. I know it’s in here somewhere.”

Jessica watched him for a moment, then leaned over as something caught her attention. She crouched beside the dresser and pulled at the corner of something sticking out from underneath. “This?” she asked.

“Yeah, that’s it.” John took the picture carefully and studied it.

“John, I realize you’re having a sentimental moment right now, but we really need to get Charlie to the hospital.” Jessica peered over his shoulder. “What is all of that stuff behind her in the picture? Cups and plates?”

“She was having a tea party,” John whispered. “I have to go to Clay’s house,” he added after a moment.

“Clay’s still in the hospital.”

“I have to go back to his house. Stay here. Take care of Charlie.”