Knowing this makes me feel empty. This other half that’s walked like a shadow through my life never knew I existed.

“Does she know I’m here too? Does she remember anything about me?” I hold my breath, waiting for the answer.

My lungs start to ache.

“She knows you’re here,” he finally says. “Elias told her,” he adds softly. “But she doesn’t remember anything from when you were kids together.”

My own sister doesn’t remember me. I’ve spent my life trying to atone for what I did to her and she doesn’t even remember.

“I have to find her,” I whisper. “They said she might be at the Sanctuary. I have to find a way to get there.”

Catcher shifts next to me, his hand bumping against my knee and then sliding up my arm to tug at me until I let him wrap his fingers around mine. “We have to find her,” he says gently.

I’m startled by the quiet strength of his grip. By the resolve in his voice. It terrifies me because it makes me want to lean on him and let him prop me up. Let someone else be strong and in charge.

For a moment, I indulge in this thought; indulge in the feel of his hand holding mine. Then I jerk away and stand up.

I’ve let myself believe in someone else’s strength before. When Elias left, I promised I’d never put myself in that position again.

“Let’s go, then,” I say, racing up the stairs fast enough that he can only follow one step behind.

It’s daytime aboveground, and when I throw open the doors and we reel out of the darkness, the bright glare of snow sears my eyes. Catcher stumbles after me, both of us holding arms in front of our faces against the blinding light of the morning. A stinging cold wind roars down the alley between two buildings behind us, instantly penetrating my layers of clothes and causing me to shiver violently.

Pulling my coat tight and wrapping my arms over my chest, I let the wind shove me toward the mouth of the alley. The tips of my hair whip around my face and force me to close my eyes as the howling fills my ears, blocking out any other sound: the crunch of ice underfoot, Catcher’s footsteps behind me. Every movement is an effort. The storm rushes at us until we finally stumble around a corner and into a crowded intersection of one of the main Neverlands roads.

Someone in the crowd blunders against my shoulder, knocking me off balance, and I stumble sideways. Hands grab at me, and at first I think it’s Catcher trying to help me regain my footing, but the tugging becomes insistent like an aggressive beggar, causing my feet to slide over a patch of ice coating the ground.

I jerk my arm free, my elbow connecting with the beggar as I fall. The impact with the ground makes me bite my cheek, filling my mouth with the taste of hot metal. “Get off me!” I shout with a gurgle just as the beggar lands on me, pushing me back until my head smacks the ground.