“MOLLY!!” Mary screamed as she marched to Molly’s bedroom. “Mrs. Abernathy called and said she knows you took her great-grandmother’s brooch!”

“Amanda took it, not me, momma.” Molly sat on her bed and brushed her doll’s golden hair.

“I’ve had enough of you blaming the damn doll, Molly. I had to talk Mrs. Abernathy out of calling the police. That means you would go to jail. Now where is the brooch?”

“Amanda made me promise not to tell.”

“Damn it, Molly, where’s the god damn brooch?” Mary yelled as she snatched the doll from Molly and threw it to the floor.

“Please, momma, stop,” Molly pleaded as tears welled up in her eyes. “You’re upsetting Amanda.”

“I don’t care if I’m upsetting your damn doll,” Mary yelled as she grabbed her daughter by the arm and shook her. “I’m going to throw that doll away, if you don’t tell me where it is this minute, young lady!”

“She didn’t mean it,” screamed Molly as the bedroom door slammed shut. Mary’s hair stood on end as she saw a small porcelain hand lock the door.