<Oreo's PoV>

"Is this really going to work?" I ask, feeling weary.

I stand in the middle of a circle drawn by Police Hat, gripping the doll like a lifeline. He's busy drawing runes and symbols on the floor surrounding the circle with his small hands, muttering to himself. The panicked grief had been a good distraction from the cold, but as I calmed down a little, the cold became noticeable again. 

I shift a bit, rubbing my bare feet against each other.

"What's the matter?" Parasol asks, watching Police Hat work with her arms crossed.

"I don't know. I just... The bond wasn't even created with me. And... I don't know," I tell him, rubbing the back of my neck with my free hand.

"Well, you own it right?" he asks, jerking his head up.

"I mean--" I start.

"You didn't steal it, did you?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Jesus, no, no, I would never!" I tell him indignantly.

"Okay," he responds simply, resuming his drawing.

"How does this... work?" I ask. "I mean, it's not like Blancmange... Sr. had a say in who gets the other end of the bond."

"Spells, hexes, curses... none of them are living things," Police Hat tells me, jumping sideways in a crouched position, drawing a small symbol at every jump. "They don't really care about legalities. They just do their job and call it a day. You can't negotiate or reserve them. If the bond creator passes away before explaining anything, the spell doesn't care. If the other end of the bond is still alive, the spell stays. If someone is recognized by both ends as the owner of one end of the link, then it'll just work like that. The spell resides in the dolls and one half of the bond, not both people."

I stare at him, my brain jumbling his words.

"Pudding Cup gave you the dad doll when she was alive and her dad wasn't. You are the owner of the dad doll. She gave it to you. So, you're the other end of the bond now," he summarizes simply, sensing my confused silence.

"O... kay," I tell him, my confusion not going away but lessening.

"Just..."

He looks up. "Don't worry. It'll work."

He gets up and brushes off the dirt on his pants. 

"Now you have to lay down," he tells me. 

I crouch down and lay down as he tells me "On your back please!" like a dance coach.

I comply, holding the doll at my stomach and closing my eyes.

"Keeping your eyes closed would be a good idea, Princey," he tells me cheerfully, before audibly whispering to Parasol, "We gotta move Pudding Cup next to him, but in the same position."

I feel my lips go dry, screwing my eyes shut. All I can hear is shuffling and Parasol's soft grunts as she moves Pudding Cup presumably next to me. 

"This is gonna suck, but you kinda have to hold her hand. It'll be over quick, okay?" Police Hat tells me after having silently come next to where I was laying.

I grimace, eyes still shut tightly. I fumble my hand around blindly before grabbing hold of her cold hand. 

It's okay. She'll be back. She'll be here. She'll be here and we'll find a way. We have to.

"Relax on the hold, Princey!" Police Hat shouts out.

Realizing that I had been gripping her hand, I relax as much as I possibly can.

"Okay! Parasol stand backwards a little bit please! I'm gonna start now."

I feel my stomach turn inside out and back in. 

Would this work? Was I putting up my hopes for nothing?

I hear Police Hat mutter to himself.

A couple minutes pass by, enough for me to calm down and get impatient. 

Right as I'm about to say something, I feel gravity increase suddenly, like a huge weight is sitting on my chest. I can breathe fine but feel short of breathe at the same time. My mind goes blank before a random vivid memory flashes in my head, over and over again as I feel myself choke.

I feel everything all at once and then absolute void as my senses' sensitivity sharply rises with every memory that passes. 

It goes on for what seems like hours as I'm forced to relive almost every memory I have. 

But, strangely enough, after I experience a memory it would revert back to its original state.

Things I couldn't physically remember passed through my head, like my birth and my experiences as a baby.

But after reliving those things, I immediately forgot them.

Things I could only vaguely remember, like the time my mom took me out for a walk after I failed another one of the tests my tutor had given me.

Once I relived them so vividly, they would become vague memories again.

Clear memories, like the day I had been gifted my garden for my 10th birthday.

Those remained clear after reliving them.

Good memories, bad memories, stupid memories, memories that could explain everything about why I am who I am today flashing through my head. 

Right before I feel myself passing out, everything stops. 

I jerk up, breathing heavily, feeling my shirt stick to my chest from the sweat despite the cold weather.

I frantically look around, only to find that almost no time had passed at all.

"Are you okay, Princey? The ritual is kinda overwhelming, from what I've heard," he tells me, skipping over to me. Parasol follows him, her face etched with worry.

"I'm- I'm fine," I tell them, before remembering the very reason I went through what I did. I whirl around to find Pudding Cup next to me. 

She lays still.

"Did it not...?" I ask, afraid to finish my sentence. We stare at her unmoving body, completely silent.

Parasol cautiously walks to her, before her eyes suddenly jerk open, causing Parasol to stagger backwards. Almost like emerging from water, she jerks upwards, heaving. She pants, coughing aggressively at random intervals. 

We stare in disbelief as her uncontrollable breathing calms down. She breathes slowly to herself before seemingly coming to her senses and jumping backwards.

"Jesus Christ, who are you people?" she asks, eyes wild. 

"Pudding Cup," Parasol starts, as Police Hat and I stay silent. It would probably be wise to let her do most of the talking. She doesn't know who we are.

"W- Who are you?!" she asks, frantically looking left then right. She focuses on Parasol's face for a second before softening ever so softly.

"Mrs. L- um.. Lace?" she asks weakly, shaking her head a little, joining her hands and covering herself slightly.

"Ah," Parasol responds, laughing dryly and pressing her lips into a thin line.

"Pudding Cup, there's a lot I have to tell you," she tells her, neither denying or affirming her suspicions. "We won't hurt you. Really, what could a middle aged woman, a child, and a skinny boy do to you?" she assures her.

I'm tempted to say something, realizing how she referred to me, but I keep silent. 

"I... I guess," she says, refusing to relax.

"Okay. It's a bit long. You can stand for now, but feel free to sit down, whenever you need to," she tells her.

Pudding Cup doesn't respond, staying still.

"Okay. I'll tell you everything I know."