October 1987, Route 9 outside Red Hook Hollow, New York. Luna pulls into a roadside antique barn on a damp midnight and buys a porcelain doll with no painted features — no eyes, no mouth, just smooth bisque. The dealer warns her: 'She was never finished. That's why she's angry.' Back home, the doll begins to change — sounds from the display cabinet, a scrape of something wet on glass, a fine powder coating the velvet lining. Luna starts to understand what it means for a face to be absent, and what happens when that absence learns to want.