There’s no sense in telling Tiger Lily that the fault is all Peter’s. Wendy can’t forgive herself, even with what she knows rationally to be true, so how could Tiger Lily?

“We’ll stop him now,” she says instead, squeezing Tiger Lily’s hand.

Tiger Lily flinches, so brief that Wendy might have imagined it. Is she lost in her own thoughts of Peter, or something else? The way time passes in Neverland, Tiger Lily and Peter may have known each other for a hundred years, or a thousand. For all Wendy knows, those years could have been an endless cycle of knowing and forgetting. It’s the best secret, Wendy. One I’ve never told anyone before. But can she trust his words? Would Peter himself even know if they were a lie?

She wishes she had words of comfort for Tiger Lily. She wishes they could anchor each other. Tiger Lily shakes herself, her eyes hard as they meet Wendy’s. There is something remorseless in them, something hungry.

Movement at the mouth of the cave draws Wendy’s attention and she tenses. One of the Indians enters, his posture remaining stooped even after passing through the cave entrance, as though Peter’s curse has permanently given his bones a new form. Wendy imagines his face was once lean and strong, but now it’s sunken into a starved sharpness.

“The girl is on the path again,” he says. His voice, like Tiger Lily’s, is strained, and at first, Wendy can barely make out the words.

“But…” Tiger Lily’s eyes widen, going to Wendy. “Then it wasn’t you.”

Wendy looks from Tiger Lily to the man in the cave entrance. His words finally sink in, and for a moment, she forgets how to breathe. The girl. Jane.

“Where is she?” Wendy jumps to her feet, looking around wildly as though perhaps the man might have brought Jane with him.

Tiger Lily stands as well, her expression mixing confusion and alarm.

“You know who she is? She looks so much like you, I thought it must be you,” Tiger Lily says. “Or that Peter was playing some kind of trick on us.”

“We saw her on the path a few nights ago,” the man in the doorway says. “We threw stones and arrowheads to frighten her away so she wouldn’t go toward the center of the island. She’s headed that way again now.”

Wendy is dizzy with relief, dizzy with fear, the ground tilting beneath her.

“She’s my daughter. Jane. I have to go to her.”