“The mind is a complicated thing,” Mrs. Darling said, considering her words as she spoke. “Sometimes it acts on its own, and quite often it controls us against our will. And I think, sometimes…” she said as she reached out and tucked a bit of Wendy’s short hair behind her ear. The light brush of her cold fingertips against Wendy’s cheek was fleeting but electric. “It takes us away, maybe not when we want it, but when we need it.”

Wendy thought of her mother sleeping, of the dreams and nightmares her mind used to pull her through at night. Of what happened in her subconscious that made her talk in her sleep, and then of Peter, coaxing her through the worst of it. How her mother’s pained expression had relaxed into one of peace.

Wendy sniffled noisily as she dragged the back of her hand across her nose.

Her mother’s hands had retreated back to her lap. “You should eat before it gets cold,” she told Wendy after a long pause.

Taking a large bite of burned eggs was the only response Wendy could come up with. It was bitter, but not terrible. She wouldn’t mind eating a bit of charred food every meal if her mother made it.

“Your father got home just a couple of hours ago,” Mrs. Darling continued. “He’s upstairs sleeping, so let’s try not to wake him up while we’re cleaning.”

“Cleaning?” Wendy repeated through a mouthful of food.

“Yes, cleaning. You don’t have any plans today, right?”

“Uhh,” Wendy stalled. She couldn’t think of an excuse fast enough that didn’t involve Peter.

“Good, then you’re free to help,” Mrs. Darling said, plopping a mound of scrambled eggs onto a plate for herself. “You can start with the laundry while I clean up the kitchen, and then we can both work on the living room.”

Wendy sat down heavily at the table. “Greeeat,” she muttered. Since when did her mother care about cleaning? Usually it was Wendy who picked up around the house. Sure, not a lot of chores had gotten done lately, but she had a good reason for it. Of course, now her mother wanted to get involved.

Meeting up with Peter would have to wait until she’d cleaned enough to satisfy her mother or Mrs. Darling went to work. Wendy looked down at her hand. Waiting to be able to see him again was not going to be fun. She had a feeling the day was going to drag on.

And drag on it did.

When she went to throw a load of laundry in the washing machine, she saw that Peter’s clothes were gone. She checked the dryer and it was also empty. Well, at least he wasn’t out walking around in her shirt and gym shorts that didn’t fit him, but did that mean he’d left in wet clothes?