Rosie Starshine had waited on the toy store shelf for a long time. She was a brown teddy bear with soft fur, and she wanted one thing: a child who would take her home and keep her forever. She wanted a name that sparkled and a mermaid shirt to wear. She had watched other toys leave in small hands. Once a girl in red boots had picked her up, called her fur soft, then set her back down. Rosie had learned what it felt like to be left behind. Then a small hand closed around her middle. A girl about five years old lifted Rosie off the shelf. She held Rosie against her chest and did not put her back. Rosie's stuffing seemed to buzz. The girl walked past the mannequin near the register, the one dressed in a shimmering mermaid dress with scales of purple and teal. Rosie stared at those scales. That was the world she belonged in. The girl walked straight toward the counter with Rosie in her arms. Behind the counter stood a young man in a brown jacket and a knitted vest, sleeves rolled up. He smiled at the girl. "Found someone you like?" he asked. He was new here. He was gentle with the toys, careful when he lifted them, and he tucked each one into its bag like it mattered. "This one," the girl said, and pushed Rosie up onto the counter. Beside the girl stood an older woman with silver hair in a messy bun and a pink hoodie. She leaned down and looked at Rosie with hazel eyes. She touched Rosie's ear. "She's soft, no cap," the woman said. "Good pick, baby." She set money on the counter. "We'll take her." Rosie's fear returned all at once. The last girl had said soft too, then walked away. Rosie waited for the woman to change her mind. She waited to be set back on the shelf. The young man scanned the tag. He wrapped Rosie in soft paper, then held the bag open. "Congratulations," he told the girl. "She's yours now." The woman shook her head. "No bag," she said. "She'll want to see where she's going." She handed Rosie back to the girl. The girl squeezed Rosie tight. Then she turned and walked toward the door. The bell jangled. Cool air rushed in. For the first time, Rosie crossed the line she had watched so many toys cross before her. The door swung shut behind them. Rosie was leaving the store. Someone had paid for her. Someone was carrying her home. But the girl held Rosie loosely now, swinging her by one arm as she skipped toward a bright brick house with flower boxes. And through an upstairs window, a doll with brown curls watched them come. Her painted face was set in a scowl, and she did not look happy to see Rosie coming home at all.

Inside the brick house, the girl carried Rosie up to her room and set her on the rug. The doll with brown curls watched from the shelf, still scowling. Rosie tried not to look at her. The girl opened a drawer and pulled out an outfit. Rosie's stuffing buzzed. She saw scales. The girl dressed Rosie in a green mermaid scale top and a pink skirt. She slid tiny purple shoes with pink bows onto Rosie's feet. Then she clipped a scale headband on. Rosie could hardly believe it. This was the world she had wanted from the shelf. She wore the mermaid now. "Meet everyone," the girl whispered. She walked Rosie around the rug. First she stopped at a glittery plush with long blue and pink hair and a white striped tail. The mermaid doll's face was soft and kind. Rosie felt safe near her, like meeting someone from her own world. The girl bounced Rosie gently in greeting, then showed her the other toys one by one. Then the door swung open. Two girls walked in. Rosie stopped mid-bounce in the girl's hand. The first cousin dragged her boots and dropped onto the bed. She had long brown hair, freckles, and a skull shirt with chains. Her eyes were red at the edges. She scrolled her phone with one thumb and did not look up. "Cute," the freckled cousin said, glancing at Rosie. "A new bear. Wow. That fixes everything." She looked back at her screen. "Real special. Bet she's, like, painfully normal too." Her voice cracked on the last word. She swallowed and scrolled faster. Rosie went still in the girl's grip. The cousin's words landed like the red-boots girl all over again. Not special. Nothing. Rosie had heard that shape of voice before, right before someone set her down. The second cousin came in slow. She wore a dark green beanie and a worn jacket. Blonde hair stuck out under the hat. She looked tired, but her face stayed calm, like nothing could shake her. She sat on the floor near the rug. "Leave the bear alone," the calm cousin said flatly. She did not raise her voice. She reached out and touched Rosie's soft ear once. "She's fine." The freckled cousin rolled her eyes but went quiet. The girl who owned Rosie clutched her tighter and turned her back to the bed, shielding Rosie. "She's mine," the girl said. "Her name is Rosie." Rosie's fear eased a little. The girl had defended her. The name felt real now, spoken out loud in this room. She was Rosie, dressed as a mermaid, held by a child who claimed her. But the freckled cousin lifted her phone and aimed the camera at Rosie. "Let me get a pic," she said, smiling in a way that was not kind. "For proof she's nothing special." The screen clicked. Rosie did not know what came next, only that the cousin now had something, and she meant to use it.