I Bought an Old Doll at a Flea Market, Gave It to My Daughter, and Heard a Crackling Sound Coming from It

I never imagined I would tell a story like this. Even now, recalling it makes my hands tremble. Some moments mark you quietly at first, then linger forever.

My name is Pauline. I’m thirty-four, a single mother, and I clean office buildings for a living. It’s not glamorous, but it keeps the lights on—most months. My daughter, Eve, just turned six, and she is the best thing that ever happened to me. She’s gentle in a way that feels rare these days, patient beyond her years, and endlessly thoughtful. Sometimes that patience breaks my heart because it comes from knowing how often we go without.