Epilogue

Epilogue

“Ugh!” Jordan dramatically threw her hands into the air and collapsed back onto the grass. “Why did I let you talk me into taking this class?” she demanded, shouting at the sky.

“I didn’t make you do anything,” Wendy told her, chuckling as she neatly tucked her organic chemistry textbook into her backpack. She and Jordan had a tradition of eating lunch on the sprawling lawn between classes when the weather was nice. “We’re taking the class because it’s required for premed.” Wendy fixed her with a stern look, her eyebrow cocked at a critical angle. “Remember?”

Jordan muttered darkly under her breath.

Their first year of college had passed by in a blur. Wendy and Jordan had been placed in the health sciences dorm, right down the hall from each other. It had only taken Wendy one week of classes before she’d gone to the registrar’s office and signed up for premed. Jordan had whooped and hollered behind her as she filled out the paperwork at the front desk. It was embarrassing and wonderful.

It was mind-blowing, the difference a year could make.

The university had a great clinic onsite, and her student health insurance included counseling sessions. She’d been seeing the same psychologist all school year, twice a week, and she was slowly learning how to work through her anxiety disorder. After getting her memories back, Wendy had experienced a whole new set of challenges. Nightmares, flashbacks, and insomnia. She got a prescription to ease her anxiety and help her sleep, but some days were worse than others. It was hard. Sometimes it felt impossible, but she had help. She had her parents, she had Jordan, and she had her goals to focus on and pull her through. She was going to graduate with her bachelor’s degree, go on to med school, and become a doctor. A pediatrician, specifically.

“I gotta head to my next class,” Jordan grumped, stuffing papers haphazardly into her bag. She stretched her hands up over her head, fingers reaching toward the sunshine. “Are we still on to swim laps tomorrow morning?”

Wendy nodded. “Definitely.” They’d both made it onto the swim team, but, coming from a small high school in an equally small town, they were far behind the varsity swimmers. It was nice, though, having a reason to really push herself. Not to mention, getting a good swim session in made it easier for her to sleep at night.

“Good.” Jordan’s teeth shone in a grin as she pulled Wendy into a bear hug. She’d been doing that a lot lately, ever since the night Wendy had found the kids in the woods. When Jordan had showed up to her house the morning after, there wasn’t even a discussion of who owed who an apology, or who was sorry for what. Jordan just crushed Wendy against her in a spine-popping hug before barraging her incessantly with questions.

Wendy avoided the ones about Barry and what had happened to him. The occasional poorly done police sketch of Peter still caught her off guard around town when she visited her parents, hanging in a window or half torn from a lamppost. They were still looking for him, as he was the only one who had gone missing and hadn’t returned, but active searches had stopped long ago. Most people shrugged him off as just a vagabond who had passed through town.

Jordan tugged on a lock of Wendy’s hair as she pulled back. “You’re getting awfully shaggy, girl,” she said as she stood up.

Wendy smoothed her hands through her hair. “Yeah, I’m thinking about growing it out,” she said with a shrug. It was already starting to brush her shoulders.

Jordan nodded. “New look—I love it!” she sang with enthusiasm. Wendy laughed and Jordan beamed. “I’ll stop by after class!” she called with a wave as she headed back toward the brick buildings. “I need to show you how to make ramen in your coffee maker!”

“That’s gross!” Wendy scolded.

“It’s delicious!”

Wendy rolled her eyes but couldn’t help chuckling. When Jordan disappeared from sight, Wendy flopped onto her back. She reached her hands above her head and tangled her fingers in the grass. This was her favorite spot on campus, where rosebushes lined the lawn.

Back home, she and her mom had picked out and planted two rosebushes in the backyard as a sort of memorial to John and Michael. John’s were white and Michael’s were bright yellow. Mrs. Darling spent a lot of time talking to the roses while pruning their leaves. Last time she was home, Wendy had even caught her dad doing it a couple of times when he thought no one was watching.

She watched the roses sway gently in the breeze and thought about Peter. She did that often. When things were quiet, her mind always seemed to drift to him. She’d had a handful of dreams about him, but when she woke up, she was only left with fleeting glimpses of starry eyes and a toothy smile. Many times she’d wished she had a picture of him, or something more substantial than her drawings to remember him by, other than the acorn that she still wore around her neck every day.

Wendy sighed. It nestled into the center of her chest reassuringly. The longing ache came back as it always did when she thought of him. Wendy closed her eyes and did her best to conjure up an image of him grinning. She thought about the small chip in his front tooth and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. Wendy smiled as a breeze picked up, causing the grass to dance against her skin. The wind brushed against her cheeks, smelling sweet as honeysuckle. Under the rustling of leaves, Wendy could’ve sworn she heard the soft chirping of crickets.

Wendy’s breath caught in her throat. She opened her eyes.