Crafted from mourning velvet and gifted to a grieving mother in 1873, Velvet Agnes was meant to be a comfort—but became something else entirely. Her eyes were sewn shut to shield her from sorrow, yet she hears everything. Secrets. Confessions. Final breaths.
By day, she sits in silence, head tilted as if listening. But at night, her mouth twitches open… whispering things no one should know—things only the dead remember. Her voice is soft, but it stains the soul.
