“Actually—” Peter started, but Wendy quickly cut him off.

“Yes!” she said. “But you can’t tell anyone. It’s a secret, okay?”

Peter huffed.

Wendy narrowed her eyes at him.

Peter sighed.

He turned and gave Cassidy a look of mock seriousness and nodded solemnly.

“I won’t tell. I won’t!” Cassidy insisted.

Wendy doubted she could actually keep that promise, which meant they needed to get the hell out of there.

“Let’s go, Peter,” Wendy said, tugging on his arm. Before leaving, Wendy shouted across the yard, “HEY, REBECCA!”

Cassidy’s older sister jumped and yanked the headphones off. She looked startled, clearly having just now noticed Wendy and Peter with her sister.

Wendy waved enthusiastically, giving Rebecca the biggest, fakest smile she could. At least now she was paying attention.

Wendy stomped off and Peter followed. He looked back over his shoulder and waved good-bye to Cassidy, who cheerily waved back.

“Cassidy, get back on the porch!” Wendy heard Rebecca say.

Once they were out of earshot, Wendy threw her elbow into Peter’s side. “You can’t just go around hanging out with little girls in the middle of the street!” she hissed at him.

Peter laughed, rubbing at his ribs and furrowing his brow. “What do you mean?” he asked, as if he wasn’t sure if she was serious or not.

Wendy groaned. Did he really not get it? “Because!” she snapped, squeezing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. Clearly, living in Neverland didn’t leave him with a lot of knowledge of social etiquette in the real world. “People will think you’re up to something, maybe that you might hurt her,” she told him. “You could get into a lot of trouble—you could get us into a lot of trouble.”

Now he looked genuinely confused. “What? But I would never do that.” The hurt in his voice made her feel bad for chastising him.

“I know, but people—other people, grown-ups—they wouldn’t know that. They would just assume the worst,” she explained, trying to be more gentle. “Especially with everything going on. If an adult saw you talking to random kids, they’d probably think you were the kidnapper.”

They were at the end of the street now. Peter stopped and turned to face her. “Why do I have the feeling you’re not telling me something?”

Wendy bit her bottom lip. “The detectives think you have something to do with the missing kids.”

Peter’s arms fell to his sides. “What do you mean?” he asked, shifting his weight between his feet.

Wendy took a deep breath. “I was late because I had to go down to the police station. Detective James—from the news, remember?—he questioned me about Alex, the missing kids.” She added hesitantly, “You.”

Peter groaned like a kid who had just been found while playing hide-and-seek. “Did you tell them anything?” he asked.