Page 111 of Losing Wendy

In all seriousness, John says, “Jealousy is a motive, Wendy.”

“Well, I don’t see why she’d hurt one of the Lost Boys,” I say. “Not when it’s me she’s jealous of.”

John shrugs. “If she’s as obsessed with Peter as he claims, it’spossible she envies anyone who has a close relationship with him. Though I still don’t think that’s the most likely explanation.”

“Are you going to share what is, or leave me in suspense?”

“She could be punishing him.”

“I’m only doing this because I love you,” whispers Michael, staring off into the distance.

My stomach aches, and I reach for my little brother’s hand. When he flinches from my touch, a part of me wilts. Things haven’t returned to normal between Michael and me since the night I woke up choking him.

I’m not sure if they ever will.

“For what?” I ask, withdrawing my hand to my chest.

John’s gaze dips to my finger, where I’m still twisting my cold ring. I try not to think about the possibility that Michael will never trust me again and return to the more urgent matter of the killer loose on the island.

My gut turns over. “You think she killed Joel because Peter proposed to me?”

John, oblivious to the pain this is kindling inside me, says, “How better to punish Peter than to kill one of the people he cares for most in the world?”

My heart pounds, anger flooding my head. “Then why not kill me? Wouldn’t that serve more of a purpose? Wouldn’t that be more fair?”

John shrugs. “Maybe she went looking for you and instead found the next best thing.”

He turns to go, but I grab him by the shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. John tenses, but he wraps his arms around me all the same.

“The murderer cut off Joel’s pinkie,” I whisper, unable to keep my body from shaking.

John tenses, but his voice remains light. “Maybe the killer thought they could trick the reaping tree into letting them into the Den.”

“Freckles’s hair was singed at the tips. When I smelled it, itreminded me of the way the rat stank when Joel made it get close to the fire.”

We let that settle between us for a moment.

“I know. I’ll watch my back. Promise.” When John pulls away, he offers me a sad smile. “And Wendy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. About snapping at you that night.” He clears his throat, unable to bring himself to be more specific, which is fine with me. I’d rather not relive the moment my brother walked in on my and Peter’s passionate kiss—or John’s assumptions about where that kiss was headed. “I’d been up all night with Michael. It’s not an excuse but…” He trails off, and as he rubs the back of his neck, I glimpse the silvery scars from where Michael’s scratches have only recently healed and have to look away. “I just…I’ve watched you hurt for a long time, you know?”

“Peter’s not going to hurt me, John,” I say, hugging my torso. “He loves me.”

Again, John’s gaze fixates on the glint of my ring. “Yeah,” he says, as if his mind has been transported to another world entirely. “Ma and Pa loved you too.”

For a moment, my limbs turn to stone, thinking John has linked our parents’ desperation to protect me to what he overheard outside of the parlor. I prepare their defense, all the reasons they thought they were acting in my best interest, misguided as their actions were.

But John only says, “And you still ended up taken, didn’t you?”

It shouldn’t be as much of a relief as it is.

CHAPTER 41

There’s no sleep to be had that night. Not when I have to dose the captain again, lest his rushweed wear off. I don’t stick around to feed him, not when the sight of him summons a lump in my throat as I remember how he took my pain and adulterated it, molded it into a justification for murdering my parents.

Not that I would have slept anyway. Joel’s murder hangs over the Den, leaving the Lost Boys irritable and sullen. I’d have thought they would suspect each other more than they do, and at first they did, some of them refusing to go off in pairs for chores like usual. But Peter has been meeting with each of them individually, talking them down from their panic.

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