Page 19 of Devour the Dark

“Hello.” It’s taking everything inside of me not to burst into tears.

She holds out her hand. It’s small, her fingers delicate. Her fingernails are painted a bright shade of pink. There is an acorn tattooed on the underside of her wrist.

A kiss.

I take her hand. Hers is cool, firm. Mine is clammy and unsure.

We have suffered the same curse and yet have found ourselves with different destinies.

“I’m so happy to meet you,” she says and smiles up at me. She’s shorter by a few inches. Tiny. Bird-like. But somehow strong.

“I…I…” My eyes are glassy. My nose is burning.

Winnie frowns and then suddenly she’s hugging me, her arms tight, squeezing me.

“It’s okay,” she tells me. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m so glad you’re here.”

I fall into the hug, my arms around her shoulders.

I wanted to show strength. I wanted to show I was unmarred by all of the years that spanned between Pan and me.

But there is only the truth.

I hug Winnie Darling fiercely and sob with relief.

Peter Panand the Lost Boys give us a moment alone. For that, I’m thankful.

I breathe in the scent of Winnie Darling and she immediately makes me think of the treehouse. Cloudberries and sweet tarts and salty ocean air.

This girl is my great-great-great something granddaughter and yet in my arms, she feels like a long-lost sister.

Breaking the hug, I find Asha beside me, an embroidered kerchief in her outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” I take the offering and dry my face. “I’m sorry. I told myself I wouldn’t cry and now here I am, crying.”

I’m overwhelmingly relieved to be anywhere other than Everland.

I’m free but terrified of it all the same.

“You can cry,” Winnie says, rubbing my arm. “You can scream or rave or dance if you’d like. No one will judge you after everything you’ve been through.”

At the next dock, a porter shouts to his crew directing luggage and crates. In the distance, the lighthouse flickers on, the beam of light spinning through the growing darkness out to sea.

I catch movement beyond Winnie and see Pan and the Lost Boys coming our way.

“If your reunion is over,” Pan says, “I’d like to know why the fuck?—”

I step around Winnie, right up to Pan, and smack him across the face.

One of the twins, Bash, I think, snorts and turns away, trying to hide his reaction. Kas frowns at his brother, whispering a reproachful word.

Vane stands by, waiting.

Peter Pan barely moves. He probably felt only a fraction of the hit. Perhaps my hand is no more damaging than a tidal breeze.

But the satisfaction I feel…

His chest rises with a deep breath through his nose. Steeling himself.

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