After she took out the garbage, her mother had her hose down the two lounge chairs in the backyard, dry them off, and put the cushions on them. Mrs. Darling had decided that today was a good day to lie out in the sun and read for a bit, and that they deserved a break after all the hard work they had done around the house. Wendy threw together some peanut butter and honey sandwiches for lunch.

The key hung heavy in Wendy’s pocket. She urged the afternoon to go by faster so she could find Peter.

While her mom easily settled in with a book, Wendy’s eyes couldn’t stay on the page. They kept wandering over to the woods. As it grew later in the day, Wendy began to worry about Peter. He hadn’t been gone for this long before. Did something happen? Was he okay? Every time she thought about her hand in his last night, something in her chest fluttered. Was he avoiding her?

When the daylight started to wane, they headed inside. Mrs. Darling threw together a quick dinner of sliced chicken breast and salad, a late dinner since she would be working through the night, but Wendy couldn’t even eat half the food on her plate. In just a little while, the day would be over and it would be nighttime. She and Peter had lost their window of opportunity to go into the woods. And where was he?

“Don’t forget to lock the back door,” Mrs. Darling reminded Wendy as she gathered up her purse for work.

“I know,” Wendy groaned. She sat at the kitchen table, pushing her salad around with her fork.

“And make sure to—”

Knock knock.

Mrs. Darling frowned and looked at the door. Wendy put her fork down and sat up straight. Judging by the look on her mom’s face, they weren’t expecting anyone.

The last thing she needed was for Detectives James and Rowan to show up unannounced and start asking more questions.

Mrs. Darling crossed the living room and opened the door.

Her face lit up. “Barry, what a surprise!” she greeted him, but then her voice immediately became concerned. “Oh, what happened to you?”

Wendy rushed to the door. Peter stood on the porch, smiling sheepishly. In the orange light of sunset, Wendy was relieved to see he didn’t have new injuries, just the lingering ones from the day before. The cut on his lip was starting to heal, but it was still a bit puffy.

“Hi, Mrs. Darling,” Peter said. His blue eyes slid to Wendy. “I was playing some pickup basketball with some guys the other day,” he lied. “Things got a bit rough, but it’s nothing, really.”

“Come in, let’s have a look at it,” she said with a sigh.