She stalls, examining the cup, aware of Peter watching her with impatience growing in his eyes. She recognizes the insignia stamped upon the cup’s side – His Majesty’s Royal Navy. Her papa took her to see the ships in the harbor once, bright sails fluttering from their tall masts, so beautiful and proud. How is it she can remember that and not her own name?

“Drink.” Peter nudges her fingers, and the cup is halfway to her lips without her even realizing she’d taken it from his hand.

He pushes at the bottom of the cup, tilting it so she has no choice but to swallow the liquid or choke on it. It’s thick and sweet. It tastes good, and even as she’s drinking it, it makes her thirsty for more. She drains the cup and Peter watches in approval. She knows it isn’t wise to take things from people she doesn’t know, especially not food or drink, but with the cup empty, she does feel better. Perhaps Peter isn’t dangerous after all. Perhaps he really does want to help her. The crawling feeling inside her calms, fear receding. Even sitting on the cold, wet sand, she feels safe and warm, like floating in a hot bath. She yawns widely.

“You can sleep now, if you’d like,” Peter says. “We’ll play a game when you wake up. I bet you have all sorts of new things to teach us.”

Before she can ask what he means, he’s gone, quick as a flash, scuttling out through a gap in the branches. She wants to call after him, but her tongue feels even heavier than before. Maybe she will lie down after all. Her insides feel warm from the drink, even better than the tea Cook makes. It’s like being wrapped in a blanket, tight like a cocoon. Maybe when she wakes, she’ll be a butterfly. The thought makes her smile, already drifting. She is safe here. There’s no reason to be afraid at all.

3: Second Star to the Right

SECOND STAR TO THE RIGHT

Wendy pulls the pins from her hair one by one and sets them in a precise line on top of her dresser. That done, she twists her loosened curls into a simple braid. Strands of gray thread the coppery-brown. Even though she was barely more than a child at the time, the first ones appeared when her hair grew back after the nurse at St. Bernadette’s shaved her head to stubble.