“No, don’t,” she said feebly, shaking her head. Wendy tugged, and the tendrils stretched taut as she tried to stand, tried to run away. They purred and flooded over her skin, excited and hungry. As Wendy struggled to her feet, they tightened around her torso and clawed toward her neck.

“You have to understand—” Peter pressed.

“Don’t.” Wendy’s stomach gave a nauseated twist. No. No no no.

“I—” A black gag twisted around his mouth, silencing Peter with a choke. He fought against his restraints with renewed vigor. His back arched and the muscles in his arms strained. His eyes sparked, frantic and rimmed with red.

“Allow me to help explain,” the shadow said. “After all, I’ve been completely honest with you since we’ve met,” it pointed out with a lift of its eyebrows. “Peter guides the souls of dead children to the afterlife. When they’ve died in a particularly horrible way”—the shadow made an exaggerated cringe—“he takes them to Neverland.” It was talking so plainly, so simply. Loss fell on her like a heavy weight, threatening to pull her to the floor. “It’s like a sort of limbo, really. Where dead kids go and come to terms with what happened to them, and then they can cross over.”

The shadow leaned forward, catching Wendy’s chin in its icy grip. It inhaled deeply and its eyelids fluttered, savoring the fear as it poured from her. It spoke slowly and deliberately, savoring each word as it hit her. “Which is exactly what he did with your brothers. When he saw you next to their bodies, begging him to let you go with your brothers, he caved in. But live girls don’t belong in Neverland, Wendy,” it said.

“Your brothers have been stuck in Neverland ever since, unable to move on, too worried about you.” It released her chin and gave her a gentle pat on the cheek. “So, here we find ourselves. Peter, without his magic, and you, without your brothers as they spend the rest of eternity stuck between this world and the next.” It steepled its fingers together and looked back and forth between the two, simply beside itself with glee.

No, this wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be true. Peter wouldn’t lie to her. He’d told her they were trapped, that he and Wendy only needed to defeat the shadow and they would be released. Her eyes searched out Peter’s for answers. “Is it true, Peter?” she asked. Her voice broke. Her vision blurred. “Are my brothers dead?”

The shadow snapped its fingers and the gag around Peter’s mouth disappeared. He gulped down air. He could barely meet her gaze. His face was racked with guilt, his eyes glassy. It was impossible to tell where the pain in his voice came from. “I’m so sorry, Wendy.”