I stay sitting on my stool in the booth for a while. I blink. I look at the puppet on my lap. I feel embarrassed that she is seeing me like this. Confused. Not defending myself. Weak and small. I put the roll of tickets away, stand up, picking my rucksack up off the floor and bumping my head on the stage in the process, and open the little door. I step out and am about to tuck the puppet back where I found her when my arms and hands seem to act of their own accord, like I’m not controlling them at all. I’m not sure which half it is—the human or the demon in me—but I unzip my rucksack and gently lower the puppet inside it, headfirst. I roll her fabric dress up a little so that she fits, and then I zip the bag up.

Jesus fucking Christ, what am I doing, I think to myself.

It’s fine, it’s fine, a voice in my head answers. She won’t be missed here. Take her just for tonight. You can put her back later.

I’ll get fired if they find out, I think.

You can’t be fired from an internship. And they’ll never know.

I look around. Has anyone seen me? There’s a man over by the Walter Potters, looking at the rabbit schoolchildren from the side and frowning, but I’m certain that he hasn’t even noticed my presence, like most of the people today. I test it as I leave, with my rucksack and the puppet inside it, on my back. “Bye,” I call—and the man says nothing back.

Chapter 3

3