A doll and its witch staying over at the doll's old family's house.
There was a potion mishap, and they need to give their house a few days to air out!
The doll is staying in its old room.
Memories seem to hang, tangible on the air here.
It hears a knock on its door.
And its heart sinks.
...
But the door doesn't open.
Only its witch ever waited for it to answer, to say it was okay to come in.
It stands to open the door -
When it opens on its own.
And its mother strides pass its witch.
It freezes.
It can't hear a word she's saying.
It can only hear its own racing heartbeat.
Its own ragged breathing.
And, all at once, it's being hugged.
The fragrance of its witch's perfume.
Home.
In the distance, its mother says something about the witch interrupting her.
But the doll just nuzzles deeper into its witch's embrace.
This.
This is home.