She remembers the bruising jolt of her tailbone hitting the ground, biting her tongue as her teeth snapped together. There’d been a moment, incandescent as a flash, when she could no longer remember her name. It was as though Peter had cut it out of her, so swiftly she hadn’t even felt the pain, hadn’t even thought to miss it until later. Then there’d been the ship, and the heavy coil of rope, and the sweet, sticky tea that had only made it harder to remember. And then everything else. Hide and seek and the boar. The weight of it crashes into her like a wave, smashing into her first, then trying to pull her out to sea with its undertow.

Peter took her name away from her.

Her stomach hurts, simultaneously hollow and full. Peter took her name. He tried to make her forget herself. Jane clenches her jaw so hard her teeth ache. He made her want to hunt. He even made her want to devour what they killed.

She crawls to the edge of the path, bringing up all the hot, crackling meat she devoured moments ago. The chaos of boys fighting each other and frightening Rufus continues behind her. She pulls herself up, gingerly testing her weight. Nothing broken, only bruised. She limps away, moving as fast as she can, welcoming the pain. It helps her focus, helps her remember herself, and she will not forget again.

She is Jane. Jane. Jane. Jane.

Her name is a rhythm, matched to her heart, matched to her ragged breath. A stitch laces up her side, hot and fast, and brings her to a halt.

“Are you alright?” Timothy’s voice comes out of the dark, soft and frightened, and Jane looks up, startled. Tree shadows dapple his skin as he emerges from beneath them. In the moonlight, he looks like a ghost.

She shakes her head, then nods, wiping at her tears and smearing them all over her face. She laughs, a huffing, uncontrolled sound that makes her stomach ache all over again, and it’s a moment before she can get herself under control.

“No, but I will be.” She straightens, makes herself smile for Timothy’s benefit, and some of the doubt and fear unwinds from him, his shoulders relaxing.

She looks around, realizing where she is. She’d found a hammock in a pile of salvage from the ship and strung it up outside the camp so she could sleep away from the scatter of boys. She sinks into it now, exhausted, and after a moment, Timothy sits beside her. She’s glad he’s here and not with the shouting mess of boys.