Page 51 of Freeing Hook

“She’s not emotionally stable,” Simon explains, noting the younger boy’s distress. Even as he says it, something I can’t quite place flashes across his face. A hint of irony in the way he chuckles and supports himself on his knee while sitting. I can’t get a read on Simon lately. It’s like he’s still himself, just on theedge and at risk of teetering off. “Before Neverland, Peter took care of her. Made sure her needs were attended to.”

I frown. The Tink I know can write, though not in any language I understand, and seems rather capable of taking care of herself. Though maybe she’s afflicted with an illness that causes that to fluctuate. Or maybe Peter assumed Tink couldn’t take care of herself because of her inability to speak vocally. Either way, it doesn’t sit quite right with me.

“And once she got here?” I ask, uncomfortable with where my curiosity is coming from. Doing this for Wendy, I remind myself.

Simon sighs. “Peter tried, but she couldn’t be reasoned with. She ran off, but still wanted him. Her moods were all over the place. He was worried she’d starve, forget to eat, that sort of thing. So he always left out food for her.”

“Until?” I ask.

“Until she attacked Wendy. That was it for him. After that, he cut her off,” admits Simon.

I turn to Smalls. “So you started sneaking food to her?”

Smalls looks down at his feet. “She shouldn’t have hurt Wendy, but…” He swallows. “I just didn’t want her to be hungry.”

I nod, not knowing what else to say.

Once Smalls shuffles back out of the room, and Benjamin has retired for the night, I turn back to Simon.

“What happened to her before Neverland?” I ask, too cautious to ask why Tink can’t speak. I’d rather not tip Simon off regarding my close encounters with the faerie. Still, my curiosity can’t help itself. I have to know if it’s a congenital condition, or something that happened to her.

I worry that it’s abuse she endured.

Simon just stares at me for a moment, then says, “Ask Victor.”

I findVictor in his room, sharpening the blade of his dagger on a piece of flint.

“What happened to Tink before Neverland?” I ask.

“What happened to Tink before Neverland?” Michael repeats, in an almost exact impression of my tone.

Victor frowns at me, looking up from his blade as he shifts on his bed. “Why? Have you found her?”

“No.” I tuck my hands into my pockets, shaking my head. I know better, but I look away, not able to bear lying to Victor’s face.

If he notices, he doesn’t bring it up. Instead, he says, “When Peter found her, she was with a traveling circus.”

I frown. “Tink worked for a circus?” It’s hard to imagine Tink having the patience to entertain crowds.

Victor grimaces. “She didn’t work for a circus. She was one of the displays.”

My stomach turns over, hollows out. “Why would anyone want to put Tink on display?”

Victor frowns in confusion, then realization dawns on his face. “Right, I’ve forgotten you’ve never seen her.”

My face must turn green, because Victor shakes his head. “I’m with you. It’s disgusting. But that doesn’t mean I can’t infer what their motives were. She has the misfortune of being both beautiful and rare.” He runs his hand through his dark hair, sighing. “That’s probably why Thomas and I used to chase her down and torture her, as much as that makes me sick to think about now.”

“How do you know this? About the circus, I mean?” I ask.

Victor places his blade on the bed next to him, then rubs his palms over his thighs. “When Peter discovered what Thomas and I were doing to her, he took us aside and explained the horrors that had happened to Tink. How they made her who sheis today. I’ve never felt so guilty as the moment he told us about finding her in a cage, lined up next to the circus animals.”

It feels as if I’ve been dunked in ice water. They kept her in a cage.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I ask.

Victor frowns. The bed creaks as he shifts his weight, cocking his head. “I didn’t know it was relevant.”

I groan, rubbing my eyes. “Of course it’s relevant.”