YOU CAN'T.

mun is 25 and a grad student and very tired and does not condone child murder and hates the color purple

    afton hums his assent at charlie’s explanation of theodore’s job -- guarding against monsters certainly was important. theodore probably had his hands full with that around these parts. how many nightmares were crawling around henry’s workshop, afton wondered how many more there must have been living in his head. an unpleasant sort of jolt goes through him as the stuffed animal speaks in henry’s voice. afton hadn’t anticipated on hearing henry from beyond the grave so soon. he kneels down to charlie’s level to get a better look at the toy, fingertips barely touching the soft, violet fur of the rabbit. he traces its face, an obvious precursor to bonnie. “one of the most important things you’ll ever learn, charlotte,” afton murmurs, his eyes following the outline of floppy ears. his free hand comes up to trail lazily through charlie’s hair, as if she were the toy to be pet instead of theodore. “is that nothing lasts forever. especially the things we make and love.”

    there’s more here afton still wants to sift through -- namely henry’s study with it’s various documents and textbooks and the workshop out back teeming with half-finished projects -- but he can always wait to comb this place over without charlie. she’s so... what was the word the child psychologist had used? fragile? afton didn’t think it was especially apt for her. then again, now he’s the only person who really knows how resilient charlie is, how special she is. he drags his gaze over the dark stain in the middle of the living room floor as the girl leads him upstairs, pliant in her hold as she takes him to her room. “now, who exactly did we miss the first time around, charlotte?”