Erin’s cursing was on another level.

Nathan didn’t even know a doll trapped in an oil painting could have such a colorful vocabulary—and she managed to keep it up all the way down the staircase, hardly missing a beat. Must be the upside of not needing to breathe.

Nathan, unfazed, watched Erin’s painting frame clatter down the steps until it finally slid to a stop at the bottom. Her voice still echoed in the house as he calmly gripped the handrail, easing his way down one step at a time—back still too sore to hurry. Reaching the first floor, he leaned down with effort to pick up Erin’s frame.

“Are you insane?” Erin’s red eyes narrowed, clutching her teddy bear as if it were a shield, her hair and clothes all disheveled. “Who throws anyone down the stairs like that? You could’ve shattered the frame!”

“My back’s out; your frame’s too heavy to carry,” Nathan replied without a trace of guilt, hoisting her up as he made his way to the dining area. “Besides, that frame’s solid. And if it cracked, maybe you’d finally be free, right?”

“If it were that easy, do you think I’d still be stuck in here?” Erin settled back into her chair, muttering, “And now I’m dizzy, thanks.”

Nathan paused, giving her a serious look that left her squirming.

Erin fidgeted under his stare. “Wh-what are you looking at me like that for? I swear, if you throw me again, I’ll get even! I’ll pop into your dreams every night. You dream you’re taking a test? I’ll ring the bell. Gaming? I’ll pull the plug. Going out on a date? I’ll show up when you guys are making out—”

How could a doll talk so much smack?

Nathan fought the urge to hurl her back up the stairs, trying to look serious. “I just want to know—how does this ‘seal’ work? You said you needed someone’s help… so what would it actually take to get you out?”

Erin blinked, stunned. She was quiet for a second before breaking into a hopeful look. “You mean… you’d actually help me escape?”

“You were the one asking for help, remember?” Nathan replied with a raised eyebrow but quickly added, “Just asking for now, though. No promises.”

It seemed Erin didn’t hear the last part. “There are three...no, two ways!” She jumped right in, “The first—and easiest—is to find my original body. I don’t know where it is, but it has to be somewhere… probably not far from this painting. If you bring me close, I should be able to escape this cursed frame.”

“But if you can’t find it, or if my body’s destroyed, there’s a second option: building a new one. Of course, it wouldn’t be as good as the original, but it’d be functional.”

Listening closely, Nathan asked, “A new body? How exactly would that work? Can’t I just pick up a doll from a shop?”

“Absolutely not!” Erin snapped. “I’m one of ‘Alice’s Dolls’—a blessed, living doll. You think I’m some plastic model from the mall?”

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Her face grew serious as she explained, “Living dolls are created in the Garden of Alice’s House. Our original bodies come from there, but I lost my connection and can’t return to be reborn. However, there’s an emergency protocol for creating temporary bodies outside the Garden.”

She leaned in, her gaze intense. “First, you’d need to find self-growing hair, earth that feels alive, bones from the dead that can mend themselves, and a single tear from a living doll—or two for better skin. Then, with some alchemy, you’d bring these materials to life, smear your blood—wait, what’s with that look?”

Nathan stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. “Maybe we should stick with finding your original body.”

Erin blinked. “You… don’t know alchemy?”

“Do people here even know alchemy?” Nathan looked exasperated. “And don’t get me started on those materials. How am I supposed to find all that? Are you sure you didn’t just pull those requirements from some cheap fantasy novel? And ‘tear from a living doll’—if I knew any other living dolls, I’d hand you over to them and let them take you home.”

Nathan didn’t know much about this world yet, but he was reasonably sure the materials Erin mentioned weren’t things you could pick up at a grocery store. Her casual tone made it all sound even weirder.

Realizing she might’ve overdone it, Erin shifted awkwardly in her chair, mumbling, “Well… I guess we could make do with some regular materials, like clay, paint, and maybe a wig.”

Nathan gave her a skeptical look.

She shrank back. “I just wanted the body to be as good as possible. But sure, basic will do.”

“Even with simpler materials, we’ll still need your blood and a touch of alchemy,” she continued. “I can teach you; it’s really not hard.”

Nathan was silent, clearly deep in thought, before he asked, “You said there were three options. What’s the third, and why didn’t you mention it?”

“…Because it has a price,” Erin admitted reluctantly. “I didn’t think you’d go for it, and honestly, I’d rather not ask. I mean, we barely know each other.”

“Then quit rambling so much.” Nathan gave her an exasperated look.

Erin softened, watching him thoughtfully. “…So, would you be willing to help me? With the second option, I mean. Even if the body’s rough, I can work with it once I’m in. Just… don’t make it hideous, okay? It should at least look human.”

This time, Nathan didn’t respond with sarcasm or jokes. He simply looked down, considering her request for nearly a full minute before saying, “I can’t promise anything yet. I’ll have to think about it.”

He wasn’t quite ready to trust the girl in the painting—not fully.

Sure, Erin seemed harmless and honest, if a bit of a chatterbox. But he’d only known her for a day. Beneath the cute exterior, Erin was still a mysterious entity trapped in a painting.

He wasn’t about to jump at the chance to build her a new body and risk letting her out.

Erin didn’t seem disappointed; instead, she met his gaze with a calm understanding. She nodded, as if she’d expected his answer. “That’s fine. I get it.”

Nathan was surprised—he’d thought she’d push harder. But her patience was unexpected.

“We’re not exactly close yet, right?” Erin gave him a playful wink from within the painting. “Once we are, I’ll ask again.”

“…Alright, maybe we’ll revisit this later.”

Nathan smiled despite himself, lifting her frame to place her on the dining table. He turned toward the kitchen.

“I still haven’t eaten, so I’m making dinner.”

“Cool… hey, could you turn on the TV across from me first? The wall’s so bare.”

“You sure don’t ask for much.”

Nathan rolled his eyes but flipped on the TV before he started pulling out the groceries he’d left by the door.

Cooking was something he enjoyed, and since coming to this familiar-yet-alien city, he’d made it a habit to prepare every meal himself. Being in this house—where he didn’t encounter the strange shadows—gave him a rare sense of peace.

Sure, the streets were filled with shadowy figures, eerie weather, and strange creatures, but all of that felt distant when he was here in the kitchen.

And compared to those unsettling figures, Erin, in her little oil painting, chattering away from across the room, seemed almost endearing.

At least she wasn’t trying to rip his heart out.