Page 76 of Freeing Hook

“Can we talk?”

It’s the most genuine request I’ve heard from Peter. Usually he’s commanding, if not cavalier. Not as if he’s giving you an order, but like he can’t fathom anyone denying him anyway, so why bother posing it as a request?

“About what?”

“About your sister.”

My chest bottoms out for a split second.

“Why? Did you find her?”

Peter shakes his head, looking off into the distance as he places his hands on his hips. We might as well be discussing whether he found a stray cat.

“Any news, then?”

“No,” he says. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is there to talk about?”

If I ever thought Peter was capable of feeling discomfort, it would be right now. His jaw works, like he’s been planning a speech and has forgotten all the right words. Peter isn’t used to others being skeptical of him. It throws off his innate charm.

“I love her too, you know,” he says.

“Something tells me it’s not quite the same,” I say, placing my deadpan reaction between the two of us. Beyond us, eerie waves lap against the onyx shore.

The beginnings of a smile appear on the edges of his mouth. “You’re implying that the love of a sibling is greater than that of a lover.”

Tink’s face flashes before my eyes. “It’s more unique, at least.”

He cocks his head. “How do you suppose?”

“It’s not replicable. Sure, you can have multiple siblings, but if you lose one, the other could never hope to replace the hole in your heart where the other once was. Loving one sibling doesn’t make the love for the other fade over time.”

Peter flashes me his teeth. “What are you implying?”

“I’m saying if something happens to my sister—if we find her dead—you’ll move on. And the next girl you pluck from her bed will wash away the pain as well as faerie wine would.”

“You think that the widowed don’t still miss their deceased once they remarry?”

“Sure,” I say, my voice crueler than I’m used to hearing it, “but Wendy never married you, did she?”

Peter’s face goes cold, like I used to see it do with Wendy when she pushed him too far. I’m still not confident that my comment pierced him like I was intending, but I think it at least landed.

“Why do you insist on being enemies, John?” Peter asks, advancing. “I swear to you, we want the same thing. We want Wendy back here, safe with us.”

I snort. “I want Wendy safe. Not back here. Not in Neverland.”

“Don’t you want for Wendy what she wants for herself?”

I stop for a moment, contemplating. “I think Wendy is twenty years old. I think that it’s rare to find a twenty-year-old who knows what they want. I’d be even more surprised if Wendy did, knowing her. She spent her entire life striving to wriggle out from underneath the clutches of a curse. There was no thought given to what she wanted or didn’t want. Just what was going to keep her safe.”

“That’s not really an answer.”

I stare at my sister’s captor. “Yes, well you should know about non-answers.”

“And if I get Wendy back?” he asks. “And I give her time to make her decision about whether she wants to stay? What then? Do you trust her to be able to decide what she wants?”

“I don’t trust anyone to decide what they want.”

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