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No one leaves the Nursery. Not really. The girls have tried: walking out the front door, climbing down the ivy, growing old on purpose. But every exit leads back to the Wicker Gate. Every attempt at aging turns, at the last moment, into a game of hide-and-seek.
Do not step on the cracks. The girls will forgive you, but the floor will not.
“Tell them we said hello. Tell them the Nursery is real. Tell them the dolls are watching, but kindly.” the immortal girls nursery travelogue
Being an Account of the Eternal Children and the Gardens That Raised Them I. The House at the Edge of the Cartography
You will never want to leave.
End of Excerpt.
The Nursery has no foundation. It rests entirely on a song that the oldest girl—her name changes depending on who is listening—sings while jumping rope. The song has 10,000 verses, each one describing a different way a butterfly might decide not to fly. If the song stops, the roof collapses into a field of dandelions, and the girls simply begin again somewhere else. No one leaves the Nursery
Travelers are advised not to ask which doll is favorite. The last person who did is now a rocking chair.