The words hit her like a final blow, knocking her to her knees. She couldn’t stand, she couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe. The ache in her chest was catastrophic, like being ripped in half. The hole gaped, and all of her grief spilled forth with uncontrollable force. The shadows swelled over her bowed shoulders. “How could you?”

“You have to understand, I needed your help to save those kids—to protect them,” he pleaded, the words tumbling from his lips. “You were the only one who could help me, you—”

With another snap of its fingers, the shadow returned the gag to Peter’s mouth. “And there you have it,” it announced triumphantly.

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

They’re dead.

The words repeated themselves in her head, over and over. The shadows cascaded around her like a blanket of oil. She could feel them reaching up her neck. “The missing children?” Wendy managed to choke out the question through her grief. Were they all dead, too?

“Oh, no,” the shadow said dismissively as it examined its long fingernails. “They’re still alive, but not for long.” That terrible smile cut across its face. “Now that I have what I want, with no Peter to stand in my way, there’s no need for them anymore.” It sighed wistfully. “It will be delicious,” it purred. “While your suffering is also quite delectable,” the shadow’s voice whispered in her ear, “I’m afraid Peter and I have some other matters to attend to. Good-bye, Wendy Darling.”

She couldn’t move, but she didn’t need to look up to know that Peter and his shadow were gone. Wendy lay curled up on her side. The feel of the rough carpet against her cheek told her the shadows had vanished with them. She remained on the floor and wept, heavy sobs shaking her body. Her fingers dug into the carpet, trying to ground herself while everything around her spun out of control.

Her brothers were gone. John and Michael were dead. She would never see them again. There was no hope for their return. And she had seen their bodies. She had been next to them when Peter found them.

What had happened? Why couldn’t she remember?

Tears spilled across the bridge of her nose, trickling across her cheek.

A part of her must have always known, even if it was her subconscious. Whenever she got close to the truth, a part of her always pulled away. Was that what her mother had meant? She didn’t remember because her mind had made her forget? Her body was trying to protect her by hiding the memory away?

She couldn’t keep hiding.

With a shaky hand, Wendy gripped the acorn around her neck, pressing it into her palm. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She needed to remember.