Wendy sat down in the red plastic chair. “So,” Wendy began, “what do you—” She stopped. A boy was planted face-first in the beanbag next to Rachel, arms and legs splayed out around him. “Uh, Tristan, are you okay?” she asked. He was only seven but had a knack for dramatics.

“I’m a starfish,” was his muffled grumble of a response.

Yup, there it was. “Starfish?” Wendy repeated, only somewhat hiding her amusement.

Rachel crossed her arms and huffed. “We were playing Under the Sea and Tristan wanted to be the shark, but we decided to let Alex be the shark because he’s new and all, but then Tristan got mad when we told him he had to be the starfish, and now he won’t talk to nobody.”

Tristan gave a hmph in reply.

Wendy nodded solemnly. “Oh, I see,” she said in the most serious tone she could muster.

Rachel wasn’t satisfied. “Tristan, if you keep being mean like that, we won’t play with you no more!”

“I don’t care.”

Rachel glared and turned away with a flourish. “Alex! Come sit next to me,” she said, waving her hand—which was smudged with blue ink—at a little boy Wendy hadn’t noticed before who was standing away from the others. He had a mop of dark hair and big, brown, very concerned-looking eyes. He was small, but the fact that his blue hoodie was about two sizes too big exaggerated that fact.

“Hi, Alex. I’m Wendy,” she greeted him with a smile. A few other kids came to join them.

Alex’s cheeks turned bright red and he scurried over to a chair. He propped his chin on the table and peered at Wendy from between the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Alex is shy,” said Lucy, who took the seat next to Rachel instead. Lucy had been born with fused bones in her wrist and was going through a series of corrective surgeries. Wendy had discovered early on that Lucy was one of those kids who had constantly sticky hands for no apparent reason. Lucy whispered loudly, “He’s not a very good shark.”

Rachel shoved Lucy and Alex hid his entire face.

“That’s why I shoulda been the shark!” Tristan declared as he flopped over onto his back. They all—except for Alex—started talking at once.

“Okay, okay!” Wendy piped up. Sharks were clearly a touchy subject. “What book did you want me to read today?” she asked, running a finger along the books on the shelf.

“Peter!” Lucy shouted. The name made Wendy stop. “Tell us a story about Peter Pan!” Lucy continued. The other kids enthusiastically agreed.

Wendy bit down on her lip. Seriously? This shift was supposed to help take her mind off things, but apparently she wouldn’t be able to escape thoughts of Peter.

She almost wanted to laugh, but not a funny ha-ha laugh, more of an I’m-losing-my-mind laugh.