Peter Pan was not real. He was just a story her mother had made up. She was just freaking out and her mind was playing tricks on her. She couldn’t possibly trust what her gut was telling her.
Even though every fiber of her being screamed to her that it was him.
It didn’t make any sense. Her imagination was getting the better of her. She needed to get him help.
Wendy tried to focus and ignore her swimming head. She dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone. The screen was blurry and, in the back of her mind, she realized her eyes were watering, but she was able to call 9-1-1.
As soon as the ringing stopped, before the dispatcher could say a word, Wendy choked out, “Help!”
CHAPTER 2
Peter
“What’s your name, miss?”
“Wendy Darling,” she said, leaning to the side, trying to see the still-unconscious boy as the other paramedics put him on a stretcher.
“Do you know where you are?”
“I’m a mile from my house, sitting here with you.” She jerked her hand back as he tried to feel the pulse at her wrist.
“I’m Dallas. I’m a paramedic.”
Wendy glanced at the shiny badge on his navy uniform, the embroidered patch on his sleeve that read ASTORIA, OREGON FIRE DEPARTMENT—PARAMEDIC. “I can see that.”
“I’m just going to do a couple of tests to make sure you’re all right,” he continued. After she had called 9-1-1, the fire department arrived on scene, closely followed by an ambulance. They went right to the boy before taking her aside to ask questions.
“I’m fine, Dallas the Paramedic,” she said, pushing the penlight he was holding out of her face. With all the volunteering she did at the hospital, not to mention her mom working in the ER, Wendy knew all of the emergency medical service workers in Astoria, Oregon. Dallas the Paramedic was new. Probably still doing his volunteer hours, if she had to guess, based on how textbook his questions were.
“Does anything hurt?”
“Just my butt from sitting on the side of the road,” she told him, again craning her neck to watch the ambulance. The gurney made loud clacking noises as the paramedics loaded the boy in. Wendy wanted to yell at them to be more careful.
“Did you hit your head in the accident at all?”
“It wasn’t an accident. I’m fine, my truck is fine.” She sucked in a deep breath. “There was no accident.”
“Okay, miss,” he said, standing up and putting his stethoscope back into his bag. The doors to the ambulance slammed shut.
They were taking him away. Wendy felt a swell of panic. She needed to see him, needed to talk to him, needed to find out who he was. She needed to prove to herself that he wasn’t Peter Pan, just a boy. A very lost boy who had somehow ended up in the middle of the road.
“I want to go to the hospital,” Wendy blurted out.
Dallas blinked. “What?”
“The hospital. I want to go. Can I follow? Like I said, my truck is fine, it’s just on the side of the road.” The tugging need to follow him only grew more persistent as the ambulance started to pull away.
Dallas frowned. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to drive if you think you need to go to the hospital to get checked out—”
Frustration flared. “No—my mom works there. I want to see my mom; she’s a nurse,” she told him. The lights of the ambulance disappeared around the bend.
“Oh.” He blinked again. “All right.” He hesitated and looked back to his sergeant, who was at the fire engine, talking on the radio. “Hey, Marshall,” Dallas called. “Tell the officers to meet EMS at the hospital.”
Officers. Great. She’d have to talk to the police. The hairs on her arms stood on end and she could feel sweat seeping through her shirt.
Dallas looked back at Wendy, expression pinched. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
Wendy looked him straight in the eye. “I have all of my mental faculties and am refusing care and transport,” she recited.
His eyebrows drew together, but after a moment, he sighed and pulled out his metal clipboard. “Sign here acknowledging that you—” Wendy whipped it out of his hand and quickly scrawled her name on the line before shoving it back at him. He fumbled to grab hold of it again.
Dallas squinted at her license before holding it out to her. “Happy birthday, by the way.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Wendy jogged back to her truck. She revved up the engine, backed out of the tangle of branches, and headed for town. The woods disappeared behind her, fading into the night.
* * *
Wendy punched in the code to slip into the emergency room through the side door in the waiting room. The ER was small and outdated in shades of blue and green. The plastic covers on the terrible fluorescent lights were painted blue with clouds, as if that somehow softened the harsh glow. The nurses’ station was placed in the middle, and the six emergency rooms surrounded it in a U-shaped ring. Drapes and sliding glass doors pulled closed around them. She walked straight up to one of the hand sanitizer dispensers attached to a wall, put exactly three pumps into her hands, and rubbed them together vigorously. It made the cracks in her fingers sting.
No one paid her much attention. The ER was cramped and chronically understaffed. There wasn’t enough storage space, so the walls were lined with shelves on wheels, stacked full of medical supplies that could be carted from room to room.
At least here, everyone was too busy to notice Wendy. She only caught a glimpse of the boy lying on a gurney in the far alcove before a nurse tugged the curtain shut.
Wendy sat in a plastic cushioned seat along the wall, watching the feet of the nurses and doctors crowding around the bed. She kept telling herself that he was just a boy who had gotten himself lost in the middle of the woods. It had been dark on the road, she hadn’t been able to see him properly. She was tired and stressed, and her mind was piecing together wild ideas. Once she could prove to herself he was just a stranger, she could go home and get some sleep.
But she wasn’t going to leave without seeing him.
“Back already?” Nurse Judy’s familiar voice snapped Wendy to attention. She stood behind the nurses’ desk, holding a tray of syringes as she peered at Wendy over the top of her glasses. Nurse Judy provided Wendy with an excuse before she had to make one up. “Oh, waiting for your mom?” Her expression relaxed. “She’s in the break room, should be out in a few.”
“Thanks.” That seemed to satisfy Nurse Judy enough and she went back to her work. Sometimes Wendy and her mom would drive home together, when they worked the same shift.
Wendy knotted her fingers into the hem of her tank top. She just needed to see the boy one more time. Then she could get out of there before anyone thought better of it, before anyone noticed her and started asking questions.
But, of course, that was too much to ask.
The ER doors swung open, and in walked Dallas, Marshall, Officer Smith, and another cop she didn’t recognize. Wendy’s stomach dropped and she pulled her feet up onto the chair and hugged her knees to her chest. Maybe they wouldn’t see her.
Dallas handed Officer Smith some papers and nodded in Wendy’s direction. Officer Smith fixed her with a harsh look, and Wendy’s eyes darted back to the closed drapes.