Wendy’s hand fell back to her side. The hope drained out of her, all the way to her bare toes. Embarrassment flared on her neck. She turned her back to the bedroom door and shook her head at herself. She rubbed her nose on the back of her hand. She really needed to get a grip.

Again, her mother’s faint voice tickled her ears.

Wendy crept down the hallway to her parents’ room. The door was cracked open and she could clearly hear her mother speaking.

“Are you all right, my darlings?” she gently cooed. Wendy’s grip on the doorframe tightened. Her mother was just talking in her sleep again. “You aren’t hurt?”

“Of course not, Mommy.”

Wendy froze. Her heart lodged in her throat.

She knew that voice. That was her brother Michael, so soft and always on the verge of laughter. She could hear the smile in his voice.

“I would never let anything happen to Michael, you know that.” And that was John. His voice was distinct. He always sounded much older than he was, like he was impersonating their father’s timbre, always speaking in absolutes. Wendy could picture him pushing his glasses up on his nose by nudging the lower corner with a knuckle.

It was John and Michael. They were just on the other side of the door. They were here, they had come back.

Wendy pushed the door open silently, fingers trembling, eyes wide.

But what she saw didn’t make sense.

Her mother lay in bed, her eyes closed. Her brow puckered and her lips were parted. The edges pulled down in a way that made her look like she was in pain.

And there, perched on the dresser next to her mother’s side, was Peter.

He sat cross-legged, looking down at Mrs. Darling with his hands in his lap. The moonlight coming in the window glanced off the side of his face in silvery silhouette. His head was bowed, as if in prayer, and his eyelids drooped. The shadows caught the heaviness of his brow, painting the circles under his eyes an even darker shade of blue. His thumb massaged the center of his palm.

“Are you frightened?” Mrs. Darling said.

Peter’s lips parted, his tongue wet his bottom lip, and John’s voice flowed out. “Not at all. Try not to worry about us,” he said.

“Yes, we’ve got each other.” Peter spoke with Michael’s voice. “We’re safe.”

Safe.

Wendy felt as though the world had disappeared beneath her feet. She couldn’t understand what she was seeing. Her fingers dug into the wall to balance herself.

Her mother’s face began to relax. “I miss you both so much…”

“We miss you, too, Mommy,” Peter said in Michael’s voice.

“We think about you all the time,” he added in John’s.