Chapter 14. Into the Woods

CHAPTER 14

Into the Woods

Peter and Wendy stood side by side at the small white fence that separated her backyard from the woods. A breeze snaked its way through the trees, lightly brushing against her cheeks, her neck, her wrists. She took three slow, deep breaths, eyes stinging as they stared, unblinkingly, into the depths of the forest. Peter was watching her out of the corner of his eye. She could feel his apprehension, but she lifted her chin and blew out one last breath between pursed lips.

They needed to do this. She needed to do this. John and Michael were depending on her, and she wouldn’t fail them again.

Wendy pulled out her phone to check the time. The screen was filled with unread text messages and missed calls from Jordan. It felt wrong, but she closed them and cleared her throat.

“It’s three o’clock now,” she said to Peter, finally glancing over at him. “We just need to make sure we’re back before my parents get home, or else my father will kill me. It’s not much time, but it’s enough to get started.”

“Are you sure you want to go looking for this tree?” Peter asked. He kept massaging his right thumb into his left palm, shifting his weight between his feet like he couldn’t stand still. “For all we know, this could just be a wild goose chase or a trap.” But even Wendy could tell by the way his jaw clenched that he knew she wasn’t going to change her mind.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Wendy said. He wished he would be less reluctant, because it wasn’t soothing her nerves. “It means something, I know it,” she told him. Even though the tightness in her chest and the thrumming of her heart told her to be afraid of the tree—something primal and instinctual—Wendy would push past it to find her brothers and the other missing kids. To put a stop to the shadow. “Besides, it’s the only clue we’ve got to go on.”

Peter looked at her like he was trying to decide if he wanted to keep arguing with her about it.

Wendy crossed her arms and fixed him with a stern look.

Peter groaned, craning his head back and closing his eyes for a moment. “Ugh, fine,” he muttered before straightening up. He hopped the small white fence and Wendy followed. “I’ve been getting to know my way around the woods,” he told her as they wound their way through the trees. “At least, what’s between my hunting shack and your house.” Peter gestured east. “I can get us to where you followed Alex and where I found you with the shadow,” he offered. “Maybe that’s a good place to start?”

“It’s the only plan we’ve got,” she conceded, jogging a few quick steps to close the distance between them.

The woods looked different in the daytime, but no less unsettling. Instead of only being able to make out things in her immediate vicinity, now she could see the vast expanse of trees stretching out in every direction, as far as she could see. It made her feel small and outnumbered.

The trees formed an erratic pattern of different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some trees were thick, with reddish-brown bark and patches of emerald moss. Others were tall, skinny, and pale with perfectly round leaves that rustled in the breeze. A sea of ivy spilled through the woods, puddling around the bases of the trees and climbing up into the canopy. Fallen trees leaned drunkenly against one another. Sun-dappled leaves flickered shadows on the sun-heated earth. Lights danced across fern fronds and thick brambles. Pinecones littered the forest floor like lost trinkets.

Wendy walked as close to Peter as she could but, as she kept throwing furtive glances over her shoulder, she kept treading on the heels of his shoes and bumping into his back.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry!” Wendy said as she caught her balance.

“Would you be more comfortable on my back?” Peter asked, hopping on one foot as he tugged his shoe back onto his foot. “Maybe a nice piggyback ride would save us both some trouble?” He grinned at her, but Wendy couldn’t manage to return it.

“I’m just a bit jumpy, okay?” she said, rubbing her sweaty palms on her thighs.

“A bit?” Peter repeated, arching his eyebrow.

“The woods and I aren’t exactly on good terms.” She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath through her nose. Every muscle in her body was tense. She could feel herself starting to shake.

Peter’s grin faded, lips twisting into a guilty smile. “At least walk next to me, then,” he said, no longer teasing. He stepped to the side and, as Wendy caught up to him, closed the space between them. Their arms were close enough that Wendy could practically feel the warmth radiating off his skin. The brush of his shoulder against hers was a grounding rhythm as they walked.

They walked farther in silence. Wendy was jealous of how he avoided tripping on roots or running into low-hanging branches, his feet moving deftly and with ease. Meanwhile, she kept stumbling at his side over uneven ground pitted with rocks and roots. To Peter’s credit, he did pause and wait every time she faltered.

When they walked into a clearing, Peter slowed to a stop. The towering trees around them formed an almost perfect circle. Tilting his head back, he looked around, blue eyes squinting in the sun. “This is where I found you last night,” he said, nodding to himself.

Wendy nodded along as she followed his gaze around. “I recognize the clearing … sort of,” she said. “The woods pretty much all look the same to me … but I definitely remember the clearing looking like this and being surrounded by trees and shadows.” She looked at the ground, curious whether there was still ash from the pixie dust’s destruction of the shadows, but there was only the spongy crunch of layers of dead pine needles and twigs underfoot.

Wind shuddered through the branches. In the distance, trees creaked and groaned.

“My shack is that way,” Peter said, pointing into the distance. “There’s a creek up ahead. Maybe we can follow that to go deeper into the woods?” he suggested.

Sure enough, Wendy could hear babbling water off in the distance if she held her breath.

“That way, we can retrace our steps.” He was looking at her—staring, really—a bit too closely. It made her feel like he was carefully gauging her reaction. Peter could push things too far and get distracted, but she was also starting to see that he was a Noticer. And the worst thing about Noticers is that it was hard to hide from them.

“Good idea.” Wendy nodded. She followed Peter another few yards until they came upon the creek. It was a few feet wide, with water tumbling over rocks and fallen branches. They started to follow it downstream, the ground sloping gradually through a ravine.

“How did you even find me, anyway?” Wendy asked, still thinking about the night before. It had been bugging her, sort of nagging at the back of her mind. There was still so much about him she didn’t know or understand. His ability to find her when she was lost in the middle of the woods was a big one. “I feel like as soon as I called your name, you just magically appeared.” Hearing herself, she frowned. Was that it? “Can you still fly?”

Peter laughed, though his smile wasn’t easy. “No, I don’t have enough magic left in me to fly anymore.” He looked down at his hands and Wendy did, too. Was she expecting to see them spark with light again? For the sword made of pixie dust to appear?

“I need to save it to use against my shadow,” he went on. “I could hear you yelling for Alex like a mile away.” He leapt to the top of a fallen tree covered in moss. He followed it down the river, feet easily stepping over knots and through vines without getting tangled. Peter held his arms out at his sides for balance, moving slowly so Wendy could keep up beside him as she tripped over wet rocks.

“So, I ran after you. It was pretty easy to hear your crashing through the woods.” He frowned, glancing over at Wendy. “They’ve been unnaturally quiet at night. No owls, no crickets. I haven’t even heard any animals scurrying around. Anyway, when I caught up to you at the clearing, I saw that the shadows were trying to take you, so I used the only thing I could think of to try to stop it: pixie dust. But if we have to rely on that in order to stop my shadow, I think we’re in trouble.” Peter’s hands went back to his sides as he hopped to the next rotting tree.

“Like I said, my magic is still getting weaker. The longer I’m here, the faster it fades. These shoes could barely stay on my feet yesterday morning,” he said, balancing on one foot and raising the other as evidence. “Now my toes are crammed into them.”

Wendy tried to look at him more closely as he stood perched on the fallen tree. It was hard to tell exactly how much he was changing day by day.

No one could possibly mistake him for a middle school–aged boy now. Indeed, he looked like he could be one of the senior guys on her swim team: tall, toned, and tanned. This was good news, really. It meant it was far less likely that someone from the emergency room or one of the police officers would recognize him.

But the far more dire reality was that they were running out of time. Wendy didn’t want to think about what might happen to Peter if he lost all of his magic. Would he turn into an old man? Disappear? Turn to dust? Something worse?

“Peter, what if that was all part of the shadow’s plan?” she asked.

He jumped down from the tree, landing lightly beside her. “What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrows knitting together as he looked down at her, head canting to the side.

“What if it used Alex to lure me into the woods because it knew you’d come after me and use more of your magic?” Wendy said. “What if it’s just buying time, trying to wait you out until your pixie dust is gone and your magic has been drained out of you?” She didn’t want to think it was possible. Peter gleamed with energy, from his quick smile to his easy laugh. Standing next to him was like being bathed in sunlight. Even now she could feel his warmth on her cheeks. Could the shadow really suck all of that brightness from him?

Peter said nothing for a moment. His eyes stared off into the distance, flickering with intensity and thought. When his face grew pale and his expression fell, Wendy wished she had never brought it up.

“Then I guess we better hurry up and put a stop to it,” Peter said, trying to force a confident smile. He didn’t do a very good job.

As they continued their trek, Peter’s eyes stayed on the ground. Wendy wanted to reach out, to touch his arm and tell him that they would figure it out and find a way to get him back home. But what if the doubt she felt was thick in her voice? So she said nothing.

The trees were denser now. They stood close together, their branches reaching out and embracing one another. Peter suddenly stopped and looked around. “Does any of this look like where you were in your dream?” he asked before letting out a huff of air and dragging the back of his hand across his sweaty brow. “Do you remember hearing running water?”

“No,” Wendy said. She rubbed her temple and tried to remember every detail, but the more time passed, the more they slipped away from her. She was irritated with herself for not writing it all down when she woke up. “The sun was setting, and everything was covered in snow,” she told Peter. “I couldn’t hear anything at first. Then, when I noticed the tree, I started to hear whispers, just like the ones I heard when I was chasing Alex and your shadow…” The intense heat wasn’t making her focus any better. She sighed and shook her head, and her hand fell back to her side. “But no running water.”

Peter turned in a slow circle, looking at their surroundings. The filtered light caught the copper in his hair. “If the tree was really that old, and the other trees around it were really that dense, then we need to go right into the heart of the woods,” he explained. He stopped and turned to Wendy. “And that is going to take longer than just a few hours.”

As much as she hated the idea of going even farther into the woods, Wendy knew he was right. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. “You’re right,” she said. Thick defeat settled inside her. There would be no outsmarting the forest. “But we haven’t got enough time to do it now. We should probably head back for the day.”

Peter nodded.

Wendy closed her eyes for a moment, trying to fight off a sense of impending doom crawling under her skin.

There was a crunch of leaves and then the light pressure of Peter’s hand against her arm.

“Hey.” She opened her eyes to find his, brilliant and blue, watching her. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s go this way,” he told her with a quiet smile, tilting his head down the slope.

Seeing as she had no idea where they were, let alone how to get back home, Wendy nodded in agreement.

Instead of going back the way they’d come, Peter led her farther down the ravine. She did her best to navigate the flat rocks and boulders.

Peter was an entirely different creature. Instead of moving slow and lazy, taking his time teetering across the terrain, now he was alert. He leapt from rock to log, pausing every so often to listen before setting off again.

Wendy panted, doing her best to keep up, but the farther they went into the woods, the quicker Peter moved. Her hair clung to her sweaty forehead and stuck to her lips. “Is this the way back home?” she asked through huffs of air. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see!” Peter said, flashing her a smile over his shoulder.

Wendy scowled in reply. She was too hot and winded to argue. Gradually, she noticed slight changes in the scenery. The foliage was a darker green in this part of the woods. The earth was damp, and Wendy nearly broke her butt sliding on a patch of mushrooms. Gradually, she could hear a steady sound, like thunder, growing louder over her own heavy breathing. Was it passing traffic?

“Peter, where are we going?” she finally demanded, fatigued and annoyed.

He was up ahead, standing on a large boulder. Peter’s posture straightened and he let out a whoop. “Found it!” he cheered, beaming at Wendy before bounding out of sight.

“Ugh, Peter!” Wendy scrambled after him.

When she found him, he was standing on a flat rock at an outcropping, his back to her.

A frothy cascade of water tumbled from a cliff tucked into the back of the ravine. It spilled into a pool at its base before flowing over rocks and boulders down a stream and deeper into the woods. Wendy’s jaw went slack. It wasn’t a huge waterfall, maybe only thirty feet high, but the pool was a glistening blue-green. Mist ghosted over Wendy’s cheeks, cool and welcoming.

Peter turned to face her, his arms spread out wide. His excited, cheek-dimpling smile was infectious. Wendy couldn’t help returning it with one of her own. “How awesome is this?” he said, his words garbled with laughter.

“I had no idea this was even here!” Wendy called back.

“Me either!”

Wendy’s eyes went wide. “You just blindly led us deeper into the woods?”

Peter smirked. “Not blindly,” he denied with a nonchalant roll of his shoulders. “I followed the sound of the water, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Wendy echoed flatly, watching Peter as he edged around the pool. Wendy carefully navigated the slippery rocks and shifting, multicolored pebbles.

Meanwhile, Peter had found an old length of rope, sun faded and fraying, tied to an overhanging branch. He gave it a tug. Some leaves floated to the rippling water below. The branch creaked but held true.

Wendy didn’t like the mischievous grin on Peter’s face.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, but he was already tugging the faded pink shirt over his head.

Peter laughed and tossed his shirt to the side. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked. He stood there, fists on his hips, cocking an eyebrow.

Wendy glanced at his bare chest. It was tanned and toned, with more freckles splayed across his collarbone. A small trail of copper hair led down his flat stomach.

She forced her eyes back to Peter’s. “H-How do you know the water’s deep enough?” she stammered out, cutting a glance to the pool of water. Ripples from the waterfall made it impossible to see down.

Peter shrugged and turned back to the rope. “I don’t!”

“But what if the rope breaks?”

“Then I’ll fall into the water.” Peter laughed, gripping the rope with both hands.

He backed up a few steps and Wendy’s heart leapt into her throat. “But—”

“Peter Pan, remember?” he said, cutting her off and hooking a thumb at himself. “Not afraid of anything!”

Before Wendy could think of another objection, he took a running start off the rock. Hands gripping the rope and knees pulled up, Peter soared out over the water. He crowed loudly and it echoed against the rocky side of the cliff before he plummeted into the water.

Wendy scrambled to the edge of the rock. Below, the water bubbled where he had disappeared. She counted to three in her head, and the seconds dragged by. “Peter!” she shouted. Panic ripped through her. She shot to her feet, ready to jump in after him. She was on the swim team and had taken lifeguard lessons as an elective in the spring. If she dove out far enough, she could—

With a spray of water, Peter’s auburn head popped out of the water. He spluttered and howled, arms viciously cutting through the water. “Argh!” he shouted, voice tight.

“Peter!” Wendy’s heart pounded erratically. “Are you okay?” She frantically searched for any sign of blood or a broken limb.

And Peter was—laughing.

Peter was laughing.

“Holy crap, it’s cold!” he shouted, head bobbing above the surface as he laughed and treaded water.

Relief crashed over her, quickly followed by anger. “You scared me half to death!” she fumed.

Peter smiled up at her, lazily floating on his back. “Come on!” He beckoned for her. “The water feels amazing! After the initial freezing cold, anyway—”

“Peter Pan, I am going to kill you myself!” Wendy barked.

“You’ll have to get in and catch me first!”

Wendy gave him an unimpressed look. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

Peter’s head bobbed, his wet hair sticking out at odd angles. “I do, yes.”

Wendy glowered.

“Oh, come on, live a little, Wendy!” he coaxed. “It’s not even that far! And it’s plenty deep!” He flicked water up at her and it landed on her arm.

She had to admit, it did feel nice.

Wendy groaned and raked a hand over her face. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said, more to herself than Peter. Wendy slipped her sneakers off and left them next to Peter’s abandoned shirt. There was no way she was going to take off her clothes. If she was going to do this, then she would just have to walk back a sopping-wet mess.

“Yes!” Peter cheered triumphantly from the water.

Her grip on the rope was vicelike. She tried to gauge the safest way to swing and gave the rope a hard tug, just to check.

“Yesssss!”

Wendy couldn’t believe she was actually going to do this. She took two steps back and then ran to the edge of the rock before jumping off. She held tight to the rope and tucked in her knees. When she swung out as far as she could, Wendy squeezed her eyes shut and let go.

The sensation of falling through empty air sent a thrill up Wendy’s spine. A strangled shout caught in her throat, but it was quickly swallowed up by water as she plummeted through the surface. The icy water shot through her like electricity, robbing her of the breath she’d held. She kicked her legs and broke the surface of the water, gasping for air and flailing.

Peter’s crow echoed loudly.

“Holy sh—”

“Told you it was cold!” Peter said, swimming to Wendy’s side. There was a wild, excited look in his eyes. “See! That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he teased.

No, it wasn’t so bad. It was thrilling. Wendy couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt a surge of adrenaline like that—the good kind that made your stomach flip and your heart flutter.

Water lapped at Peter’s grin as he watched her expectantly.

Maybe she could.

“Well?” Peter asked.

Wendy reached out and held Peter’s shoulders. Confusion flickered across his face, then quickly jumped to surprise when Wendy shoved him underwater.

He resurfaced, spluttering and wiping water from his face.

Wendy laughed, the loud sort that came right from the belly. “Come on, I’ll race you to the top!” she called to him. Wendy dove forward, arms slicing through the water as she swam for shore.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Peter called after her.

The water tasted cold and sweet through her smile.

They raced each other over the edge of the rock and through the water. Sometimes with the rope, sometimes without. Wendy stuck to the safety of a pencil dive, but gradually she leapt with less trepidation and more speed. Peter tried different tricks, from backflipping off the edge of the rock to hanging from the rope upside down. About half the time, he either landed flat on his back or ended up belly flopping. Wendy laughed hard and loud every time. After a while, she wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

Exhausted and content, Wendy floated on her back, staring up at the blue sky framed by the green canopy. White clouds drifted by. Her blue tank top billowed around her, tickling her waist and wrists. Under the water, the rhythmic thundering of the waterfall filled her ears. Wendy inhaled a deep breath, reveling in the sensations.

When she opened them again, Peter was there, a curious expression on his face. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear what he said.

Wendy shifted, lifting her head out of the water. “What?” she asked.

A strange little chuckle quaked Peter’s shoulders as he shook his head. “Nothing.”

Wendy flicked water in his face.

In return, Peter scooped her up, hooking his arms under the back of her knees and across her mid-back. He twisted, dragging Wendy through the water as he rotated.

Water rushed over Wendy’s shoulders and tickled her neck. She let her fingers drag through the surface of the water. Laughs bubbled through her lips.

Peter laughed along with her, eyes crinkled, droplets clinging to his lashes. When he stopped, Wendy still felt like they were spinning. “Whoa,” he chuckled, blinking his eyes hard. “Dizzy.”

Wendy looked up into his face. He hadn’t let go. “Yeah.” Dizzy and lightheaded. “Me too,” she said.

Peter grinned down at her, his soft chuckles gently reverberating in his chest pressed against her arm. Light sparkled in his wet auburn hair. A drip of water glinted from the tip of his nose. Peter wet his lips. She saw his Adam’s apple bob. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words seemed to die in his throat, followed by a loud, uneven laugh.

Wendy felt like she was swinging out over the cliff again, weightless and short of breath. She couldn’t even feel the water anymore.

Brow furrowed, Wendy glanced down. They weren’t in the water anymore. Instead, they hovered in mid-air above it. Drops of water fell from their wet clothes into the pool several feet below.

Wendy gasped and latched on to Peter’s shoulders. “Peter!”

“It’s okay,” he said, calm and steady. The words tickled her ear. His skin was warm and reassuring under her cold hands. Wendy tore her eyes away from the water below and looked at Peter. He grinned. “I’ve got you.”

Sunlight lit up and sparked in his brilliant blue eyes as he stared into hers. Her arms looped around his neck, holding on tight. Wendy thought she wouldn’t mind gazing into the cosmos of his eyes forever, searching for hidden answers in their stars and coming up with her own constellations like the ancient Greeks.

“Shouldn’t you be saving your magic?” she asked, nearly whispering.

Peter’s dimples came out to play. “Probably.”

They were almost nose to nose. Water dripped from his hair onto Wendy’s cheek.

Was he holding his breath, too?

In the distance, a shotgun boomed.

Wendy’s chest bucked. A violent jolt ripped through her. She jerked back from Peter, knocking him off-balance and sending them both crashing back into the water.

When Wendy resurfaced, she gasped for air. Her heart clenched, her whole body rigid as she tried to stay afloat. She swore she could still hear the echo of the shotgun fading in the distance.

“What happened?” Peter swam to her, face etched with worry. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah.” Wendy’s teeth clacked together. “It just s-s-startled me,” she stuttered out.

Concern dug lines into Peter’s face. He reached out, but Wendy pulled back. Hot shame swirled with ice water through her veins. “Come on, we should g-go,” she said. Without looking back, she swam for shore.

---

The walk back was quiet. Peter seemed lost in thought and Wendy was trying to just focus on the back of his neck and not look around. Soaked to the bone, she shivered and trembled her way back through the woods. Peter offered her his dry shirt, but Wendy declined. The longer they were there, the more she felt like they were being watched again. She half expected to look up and see a figure standing among the trees. The trek back was uphill and went even slower than their hike in. Her canvas shoes rubbed raw blisters into her wet feet.

After what seemed like ages, the trees became sparser and Wendy could make out the fence that separated her yard from the woods. A sigh of relief heaved through her. “Finally,” she breathed.

Peter stopped and turned to her. “You should see if you can find a map of the woods.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his soaked shorts. “That would make it easier for us to find our way around and check off where we’ve already looked,” he suggested.

Wendy nodded in agreement. “That’s a good idea. I’ll see if I can dig one up around the house. I should probably head in now—my parents are going to be home soon,” she explained. But she lingered, eyeing Peter.

He stood there, rubbing his arm and rocking onto the balls of his feet. Apparently he was quite interested in examining his shoes. “I’d invite you in, but I’m paranoid my mom might suddenly recognize you from that crappy police sketch,” she said with an uneasy laugh. “And I don’t think my dad would be too excited about me bringing a guy home while all of this is going on,” she added.

Peter let out a short laugh and arched his eyebrows. “Yeah, I’m not too excited about the idea, either.”

Wendy smoothed her hands through her wet hair, pulling out a twig as she did so. She didn’t like the thought of Peter being in the woods alone. “Are you going to be okay out there by yourself tonight?” she asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Peter said, waving off her concern. “I’ll just lie low and practice my origami.” The smile was back, accompanied by a waggle of his eyebrows.

“You aren’t afraid of your shadow?” she pressed, not comforted by his nonchalance.

“Me? Afraid?” Peter gave her a grin, ducking his head closer. “Never,” he whispered.

Wendy bit down on her lip. “Well, if something does happen or you need me, just … throw a pebble at my window or something. It’s the top one on the right, in the front of the house.”

“I’ll be sure to serenade you awake with a flower between my teeth,” he said with a solemn nod.

Wendy rolled her eyes and nudged his shoulder with her own. “You’re not funny,” she told him. Her mouth started to twist into a smile.

Peter’s smile grew wide again, his dimples coming back out to play. Just then, something caught his eye over her shoulder. The smile faltered.

Wendy turned to see Jordan coming through the gate at the side of the house. Even from across the yard, she could see her dark eyes locking onto Peter before frowning at Wendy.

A heavy weight dropped into her stomach. “You should probably leave,” she told Peter quietly. He clearly didn’t need to be told twice. Peter gave her a curt nod, but when he turned to the woods, Wendy caught his arm. “Go around the front of the house,” she said in a harsh whisper. Seeing Peter walking off into the woods would only make Jordan ask more questions.

Wendy and Peter climbed back over the small fence. Wendy stopped in the middle of the yard, waiting for Jordan. She and Peter passed each other. She couldn’t see Peter’s face, but Jordan said, “Hey, Barry,” in a tone that lacked her usual warmth.

Peter gave a small wave and slipped through the gate.

“I thought you were going to call me,” Jordan said as she walked up to Wendy. It was more of an accusation than a question.

“Yeah, I was about to, actually,” Wendy said. She tried to force the most innocent smile she could muster, but it felt all wrong. She never lied to Jordan like this. “Me and Barry were just…” She trailed off.

“Going for a stroll through the woods?” Jordan suggested with a lift of a skeptical eyebrow. She looked Wendy up and down. “You’re soaking wet!” She pulled a leaf from Wendy’s hair, then huffed. “What is going on with you, Wendy?” she asked. Jordan had her own brand of “angry” that lacked any real heat and was mostly a cover for concern.

“What do you mean?” Wendy didn’t like feeling chastised.

“You’re not acting like yourself at all! You’re avoiding me—”

“I’m not avoiding you!” Now it was Wendy’s turn to cross her arms.

Jordan ignored her and lifted her palms. “Listen, I’m all about you branching out and getting a secret boyfriend—”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Wendy spluttered. “He’s—he’s just—”

“Some stranger you’re gallivanting off into the woods with?” Jordan pressed. “I don’t get it, this isn’t like you! You’re not calling me back, or telling me when you get called down to the police station?”

“They just wanted to ask me questions about Alex.”

“Yeah, Alex, from the hospital where we both volunteer,” Jordan pointed out. Her arms fell to her sides. “How could you not come and talk to me as soon as you found out he went missing?” she asked. Her brown eyes searched Wendy’s for an explanation.

Wendy didn’t have one.

“I’m your best friend,” Jordan continued, voice quivering. “You used to say that I was the only person you felt like you could rely on, remember? And now you’re, what, going into the woods with some guy you just met? Wendy, you’re terrified of the woods!”

The maddening part was that she knew Jordan was right.

Wendy groaned and pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. What could she tell Jordan? She couldn’t explain herself, there was no way. She didn’t want to hurt Jordan, but she also couldn’t tell the truth. Jordan would either think she was having another mental breakdown or that she was flat-out lying. “You wouldn’t understand,” was all she could say.

“Look, I know you’re going through hell right now—the missing kids, your brothers—” Wendy’s eyes burned. “Just the other day you came to my house practically in tears over those missing kids and the detectives showing up at your door. You’ve always been able to talk to me about what’s going on!”

“I know, but this is different!” She didn’t like being yelled at by Jordan, and she wanted to push back. They never got into shouting matches. It made her feel like she was talking to her father, not her best friend. “You say you know what I’m going through, but you have no clue, Jordan!” Wendy didn’t want to yell, but she couldn’t help it. She felt backed into a corner.

“We’ve always been able to talk to each other about anything,” Jordan pressed on. “When we’re stressing out together about college, when me and Tyler are having a fight.” Jordan’s brow furrowed and the anger in her voice broke when she said, “Or when I’m missing my mom—”

The tension in Wendy shattered. “This is bigger than that, Jordan!” she shouted. Jordan took a step back, as if Wendy had just slapped her across the face.

Wendy regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth, but she couldn’t stop herself. Everything that had built up swiftly unraveled. “And I don’t expect you to get it! Just because you listen to me doesn’t mean you can understand because you can’t, you just can’t!”

Jordan reeled back another step. Her cheeks were flushed. Her brown eyes shone in the waning sunlight. “Don’t shut me out, Wendy,” she said. Her tone was quiet and resigned. “If you don’t want to tell me what’s really going on, I can’t make you. But I’m worried about you.” She glanced up at Wendy. “You need to be careful. Those missing kids haven’t been found yet, and, for all we know, you might be in danger.” Jordan turned around and started to walk away.

This was all wrong. Wendy needed to stop her and apologize. “Jordan—” She reached out to catch her elbow, but Jordan was too quick.

“Call me when you actually feel like being real with me,” she said over her shoulder, rubbing at her eyes. She rounded the gate and then was gone.

Wendy was left alone in her backyard, feeling like someone had ripped a hole in her gut. She couldn’t tell Jordan what was going on. She wouldn’t believe Wendy, and even if she did, Wendy would just be dragging Jordan into danger. Who was to say the shadow wouldn’t try to use Jordan against her? She hated herself for hurting her best friend like that, but she was also mad at Jordan for making her feel so guilty. Right now, the most important thing was to protect Jordan, and that included protecting her from herself.

Wendy stomped across the yard to the back door. She went inside and slammed the sliding glass door behind her. When she turned, she saw someone standing by the sink and jumped so hard that she stumbled back.

Mrs. Darling was standing there, dressed in her scrubs with two glasses in her hands.

“Mom, hi,” Wendy said, breathing a heavy sigh. She paused. How long had she been there? Had she seen her and Peter coming out of the woods? Or her fight with Jordan? “When did you get home?”

Mrs. Darling gave her a small smile as she reached up to put the glasses away in the cupboard. “Just a few minutes ago. Your father is upstairs taking a shower,” she said, drying her hands off on a tea towel. She looked past Wendy into the backyard. She smoothed her hands down the front of her shirt. “I saw that you and Jordan were talking, so I thought I shouldn’t bother you.” Her delicate eyebrows lifted. “It looked like a pretty heated discussion,” she said. The inflection in her voice posed it as a question.

“We were fighting,” Wendy said. Frustration dug its way back under her skin.

The corners of Mrs. Darling’s lips pulled down into a frown. “You guys don’t usually fight. That’s not normal for you two…”

Wendy’s mom was right, of course. The biggest arguments she and Jordan usually got into were about what movie they were going to watch on Friday nights. “A lot of things aren’t normal these days,” she muttered.

This was the closest Wendy had come to asking her mother for advice in what seemed like ages. She hardly knew how to ask anymore, and it was clear that Mrs. Darling wasn’t sure how to give it. She fiddled with the tea towel, twisting a corner around her finger. “I’m sure it’ll blow over. Maybe you two just need some time to cool off?”

Wendy sighed. “Probably.” Though she wasn’t sure she believed that. Maybe she just needed to keep Jordan at a distance until this was all over with. For Jordan’s own sake.

Mrs. Darling pressed her lips together. Wendy thought maybe she had something else that she wanted to say. But she just sighed and tucked a lock of stray hair behind her ear. “I was going to make grilled cheese and tomato soup,” she said. “How does that sound?”

Wendy blinked. “Really?”

Mrs. Darling nodded in reply.

Usually, Wendy did all of the cooking in the house. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had cooked anything, besides reheating leftovers. Even if it was grilled cheese made with processed yellow squares, white bread, and condensed soup, it still felt … oddly domestic. “That sounds great, Mom.”

“Great.” Mrs. Darling turned to the cupboards and pulled out a can of tomato soup. “You should probably change into some dry clothes before we eat,” she said, cutting a knowing look to Wendy.

She looked down at herself. She was still soaked. A small puddle of water had gathered beneath her shoes.

---

A couple hours later, Wendy headed up to her room for the night, smelling of soap and with a belly full of deliciously greasy cheese. Mr. Darling had taken his dinner in his study, claiming he had work to make up after starting late today. As she and Mrs. Darling ate at the dining room table, the sound of clinking glass came from behind the door.

Wendy’s mother liked to read while she ate dinner, with her small, square-rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose. Tonight’s pick was The Turn of the Screw. She’d only looked up to say good night when Wendy announced she was going to bed early.

Once in her room, Wendy threw herself onto her bed. Lying on her back, she stared up at the fairy lights. She wondered if Jordan had texted her. She dug her phone out of her pocket, but there was nothing.

What did she expect? An apology? It wasn’t like Jordan had anything to apologize for. As much as Wendy hated to admit it, everything Jordan had accused her of was right. She was the one suddenly acting weird, and she was taking her frustrations out on Jordan. She tossed her phone onto the nightstand.

Wendy’s mind wandered to Peter. She wondered if he was okay, secluded in the woods with the shadow gaining power with each passing moment. She grew worried, thinking about him alone in that dingy hunting shack. Maybe she should have asked him to stay. The thought made her shift uneasily. That would be awkward. Where would he sleep without her parents knowing? In her truck? That didn’t seem much better. Clearly the shadow had no problems with lurking around her driveway.

Either way, there was nothing she could do about it tonight. She and Peter hadn’t had time to arrange a place and time to meet tomorrow because Jordan showed up, so, once again, she’d have to just wait and hope.

Wendy’s mind kept cycling through worrying about Jordan, then Peter, then the shadow, then the missing kids, then back to Jordan, then over to Peter again.

She needed a distraction. She dug a book out of her backpack and tried to read, but every time she’d start a sentence, her mind would wander and she would forget what she had just read and have to start the sentence all over again. After reading the same sentence five times, Wendy gave up.

When she put the book on her nightstand, her fingers itched, twitching toward the drawer. She hesitated for a second before pulling it open and taking out the acorn. Lying back, she rolled the acorn in her palm. The longer she played with it, the warmer it seemed to get in her hand. It reminded her of how she felt when she was around Peter. It was comforting.

That gave her an idea.

Wendy went to her closet, got on her hands and knees, and started digging through the stack of boxes in the far corner behind her shoes. It took her a few minutes of opening lids and rifling through contents until she found what she was looking for.

She pulled out a yellow plastic pencil box. Inside were old jewelry-making supplies that Wendy had used to make necklaces and bracelets when she was younger, most of which she only ever gave her mom and Jordan. Inside were small beads and pieces of yarn in different colors. There were spare toggles and barrel clasps, and various jump rings. She took out a silver one and a long piece of leather cord.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Wendy used the supplies to fashion the acorn and leather cord into a necklace. When she put it around her neck, the acorn hung in the center of her chest, long enough to safely tuck under her shirt.

Wendy leaned back against her pillows. Exhaustion weighed her body down, from her sore feet to the prickle of a sunburn on her forehead. The weight of the acorn felt reassuring. The warmth from where it lay against her skin seemed to radiate through her. Wendy sighed and closed her eyes. What was it about the acorn that made her feel so much more at ease? At least now she would be able to carry it around with her, and that seemed to soothe her worries enough for her to fall asleep.