When she spun to face him, he had a very amused look on his face. Both of his eyebrows were raised and the right side of his lips twitched as he suppressed a grin.
It did nothing to improve her mood.
“How the hell did you even get in here without anyone stopping you?” she asked. There was a front desk on every floor of the hospital and every visitor was required to check in and wear a visitor’s pass, even if he was in scrubs. “How come no one noticed you?” He didn’t exactly blend in. There was something about Peter that was decidedly … otherworldly, for lack of a better term. She couldn’t pinpoint it, but it was a sort of aura he gave off.
Aura? Wendy pinched the bridge of her nose. What was she even thinking?
“Because I didn’t want them to notice me,” Peter said, as if this were a very obvious answer to a very dumb question. “I can get past adults easy—they don’t pay much attention to begin with, anyway. But I can get by anyone without them seeing me, you know that,” Peter added with a laugh.
“No I don’t. I don’t even know you!” Wendy shot back, her eyes darting back to the door. She said it, but she could hear her own doubt in her words.
Peter groaned and threw his head back. “Are we really still playing this game?” he asked. He stepped closer, his brow furrowed. “It’s me, Peter—you know me, Wendy! I’m real, Neverland is real. You just forgot about me—that’s what happens when you grow up!”
His tone surprised her—it was nearly pleading.
“You’ve got to remember something,” he pressed, catching hold of her elbow.
“I can’t remember!” Wendy shot back, wrenching her arm free. She was sick of people saying that to her over and over again. “I can’t remember anything!”
Peter’s shoulders slumped.
Though, that wasn’t entirely true, was it?
“I mean…” Wendy swallowed hard. “I had a dream last night. Maybe—maybe a memory.” Lord help her, was she really admitting this?
Peter perked up. “You did?”
Wendy nodded. “About you.” She felt breathless. “And me. And Neverland.”
A smile broke across Peter’s face, bright and immediate and all-consuming. It hit her in the chest. “Then you do remember!”
But Wendy wasn’t so ready to accept it. “If you’re really Peter Pan, you should be able to fly, and you’re supposed to be a child,” she added. “The whole point of Peter Pan’s existence is that he never grows up, right?” Wendy couldn’t believe that she was actually arguing the logistics.
“Yeah, well.” Peter scuffed his foot against the ground. “Those things are sort of part of the problem. For some reason I’m getting older—and fast.” He looked genuinely worried. Ever since Wendy had first met him the other night, she had only seen him as grinning and cocky, if a bit delusional. But now he couldn’t stand still and kept fidgeting with his hands. “My flying has gotten all messed up since my shadow left,” Peter added, gesturing to his feet.
Sure enough, while Wendy’s shadow pooled on the cement below her, there was still nothing beneath Peter, just like last night. Wendy exhaled a laugh. “This is ridiculous.”
“If we don’t find my shadow, more kids are going to go missing,” Peter blurted out impatiently.
“What?” she asked incredulously. “What are you talking about?” The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place. “Wait—do you know what happened to those missing kids?” Her hand pointed in the general direction of the rec room where, presumably, the news coverage was still rolling.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Peter said, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I’m the one who is supposed to find and help lost kids, like in the stories, right?” Wendy nodded. “But ever since I found you and your brothers in the woods—”
Wendy felt like she had just been slapped across her face. The casual mention of her brothers was violent and jarring. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and her heart leapt into her throat.
Apparently Peter didn’t notice, because he continued on.
“Everything has been so messed up.”
Wendy felt like she was drowning in his words. It was too much, too fast. She didn’t feel very brave anymore, and she couldn’t maintain her look of skepticism. The wave of nausea washing over her was the same one she felt every time someone mentioned her brothers. “What?” she breathed.