She has no words for what she wants to say. She knows there are many men like Ned, many women like those in St. Bernadette’s, called sick and sinful, mad and wrong. But out in the world, all she sees are men and women, happy husbands and wives, or at least husbands and wives giving the illusion of happiness. Families. Children. Like her own family—mother, father, herself, Michael, and John.

Only her mother and father are long gone now, and Michael is gone as much as he is here—his body returned from war but as a home for ghosts. She wants what they had before all that, a family, a house full of joy and laughter, people who care for each other. If Mary can accept the possibility that Wendy might want a wife, if Ned’s heart can belong to another but he can still feel a kind of love for her, then perhaps this is possible too.

Wendy closes her eyes. She is a child again, standing on the window sill, her hand in Peter’s hand. The sky stretches before her, and she is about to take a step, to fly or fall. Her heart is overfull, ready to burst. Every instinct in her screams at her to be silent, but if she doesn’t speak, she will never know anything even close to happiness again.

“I don’t think I’m made for that sort of love.” Wendy opens her eyes, swallows. Her throat aches. It’s hard, saying the words aloud. “Not the sort of love most people think of when they think of a marriage.”

The words tangle in her throat, and Wendy swallows again.

“But.” The words still remain halting and unsure, but she forces herself to go on. “I believe… that is… I think there are more kinds of love in the world than most people speak about out loud. I love you.” She meets Mary’s eyes, hoping desperately she will understand. “And I could love Ned in time. I want… I want us to be all together, like a family.”

She searches Mary’s expression frantically for any sense of what her friend is thinking. The world is no longer beneath her feet. Wendy is free-falling, and she no longer remembers how to fly.

“I want you with us, but more than that, I want you to be happy. I want you to have whatever it is you want, even if that’s a life apart from me.” Wendy finally runs out of words.