They’d embraced again as they’d parted, but as John stepped into the courtyard, she’d called him back. He’d turned to look at her, quizzical, and she’d spoken her next words in a rush, afraid she wouldn’t get them out otherwise.

“Thank you, John, for all you tried to do for me. I can’t pretend St. Bernadette’s was easy, or that I was happy there, but I know you had my best interests at heart.”

He’d stood there, utterly at a loss for words, until she’d shooed him away.

“Go to Elizabeth, and when she’s said yes, you must both come around to celebrate. Jane will be so pleased. She adores Elizabeth and she’ll be delighted to have an aunt.”

The moment stands like a shining beacon in Wendy’s heart. She has never felt quite as close to John as in that moment, not before or since, even when she stood by his side on his wedding day, even during all those years in the nursery when she took care of him and Michael. His words come back to her, about being grown up. She wonders precisely when it happened. Was it when their parents’ ship went down, when word arrived that they would never be coming home? Was it when she married Ned, or when Jane was born? Or is it now, as she prepares to do the most grown-up thing she’s ever done—face Peter, face her childhood, and let it go for good?

Tiger Lily moves back to her side. As she does, Wendy feels a bruising edge of guilt spreading beneath her skin. Her words before were honest—she doesn’t know exactly what they will face, only that it will be dangerous. And deep down, she knows that if it means saving Jane, at the end of the day—at the end of any day—she will choose her daughter over Tiger Lily, over Peter, over herself.

“All right,” Wendy says. She adjusts Hook’s sword at her side. “I’m ready.”

13: Here be Monsters

HERE BE MONSTERS

A sudden gust of wind rattles the canopy of trees and Timothy simultaneously flinches upward and scrunches down, trying to escape from and hide inside his skin at the same time. Jane can’t help flinching too, but turns the motion into squeezing Timothy’s hand, an attempt at comforting him and herself both. In the dark of the canopy tunnel, Timothy looks terribly small, but Jane is glad to have him here.