Jessica stopped moving. She blinked in the sudden brightness, her vision resolving. Charlie’s imposter stood in the light of the window, revealed in her true form: She was undeniably an animatronic, but she was nothing like any other Jessica had ever seen. She was human-size—the same size as Charlie—modeled on a human woman, of sorts, her bifurcated face painted with rosy cheeks and a bright red nose, and her enormous, round eyes were rimmed with long, black lashes. She even had hair, two silky orange pigtails sprouting from the sides of her head, gleaming unnaturally in the light—Jessica couldn’t tell what her hair was made of. She was wearing a red-and-white costume—or rather the metal segments of her body were painted to look like a costume; at her waist, a red skirt stuck out playfully. She was standing very still, and she was staring straight at Jessica. Jessica froze, afraid to breathe, but the creature just tilted her metal head to the side, watching. Her animatronic face looked familiar, but she still felt fuzzy and couldn’t recall where she’d seen it.

“I don’t suppose you’d give me a hand with these?” Jessica lifted her feet the quarter inch the restraints would allow. The animatronic smiled.

“No, I don’t suppose I would,” she said, her voice alarmingly unchanged. Jessica shrank back, revolted at the sound of her friend’s voice coming from this singular new creature.

“Who are you?” Jessica asked.

“I’m Charlie.”

Jessica looked around the dimly lit room helplessly. Apart from the chair, the only object she could see was a gigantic, old-fashioned coal-burning furnace, with a warm orange glow emanating from the thin vents in its door.

“At least,” the creature began, “part of me is Charlie.” She held her hand out in front of her, studying it. Jessica looked up and suddenly it was Charlie standing in the light of the window, looking confused and innocent. “It’s strange,” the animatronic said. “I have these memories. I know they don’t belong to me; and yet at the same time, they do.” She paused, and Jessica returned to wrestling with the knots. “I know that they don’t belong to me because I don’t feel anything when they come to mind. They are just there, like a long road you walk on, lined with billboards of things happening somewhere else.”

“Well, what do you feel?” Jessica muttered, trying to drag out the conversation as her survival instincts kicked in.

The animatronic girl’s eyes darted toward her. “I feel … disappointment,” she said, her voice growing more tense. “Desperation.” She looked out the window. “A father’s disappointment, and a daughter’s desperation,” she whispered.

“Henry?” Jessica gasped. The girl looked back at her.