“It’s three o’clock now,” she said to Peter, finally glancing over at him. “We just need to make sure we’re back before my parents get home, or else my father will kill me. It’s not much time, but it’s enough to get started.”

“Are you sure you want to go looking for this tree?” Peter asked. He kept massaging his right thumb into his left palm, shifting his weight between his feet like he couldn’t stand still. “For all we know, this could just be a wild goose chase or a trap.” But even Wendy could tell by the way his jaw clenched that he knew she wasn’t going to change her mind.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Wendy said. He wished he would be less reluctant, because it wasn’t soothing her nerves. “It means something, I know it,” she told him. Even though the tightness in her chest and the thrumming of her heart told her to be afraid of the tree—something primal and instinctual—Wendy would push past it to find her brothers and the other missing kids. To put a stop to the shadow. “Besides, it’s the only clue we’ve got to go on.”

Peter looked at her like he was trying to decide if he wanted to keep arguing with her about it.

Wendy crossed her arms and fixed him with a stern look.

Peter groaned, craning his head back and closing his eyes for a moment. “Ugh, fine,” he muttered before straightening up. He hopped the small white fence and Wendy followed. “I’ve been getting to know my way around the woods,” he told her as they wound their way through the trees. “At least, what’s between my hunting shack and your house.” Peter gestured east. “I can get us to where you followed Alex and where I found you with the shadow,” he offered. “Maybe that’s a good place to start?”

“It’s the only plan we’ve got,” she conceded, jogging a few quick steps to close the distance between them.

The woods looked different in the daytime, but no less unsettling. Instead of only being able to make out things in her immediate vicinity, now she could see the vast expanse of trees stretching out in every direction, as far as she could see. It made her feel small and outnumbered.

The trees formed an erratic pattern of different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some trees were thick, with reddish-brown bark and patches of emerald moss. Others were tall, skinny, and pale with perfectly round leaves that rustled in the breeze. A sea of ivy spilled through the woods, puddling around the bases of the trees and climbing up into the canopy. Fallen trees leaned drunkenly against one another. Sun-dappled leaves flickered shadows on the sun-heated earth. Lights danced across fern fronds and thick brambles. Pinecones littered the forest floor like lost trinkets.

Wendy walked as close to Peter as she could but, as she kept throwing furtive glances over her shoulder, she kept treading on the heels of his shoes and bumping into his back.