All Susan wanted was to forget. When she no longer missed the murmur of her ball gowns as she walked, the touch of it's luxurious fabric, the day her hands didn't ache for her bow; she would feel complete again.

So, in spite of the feeling of wrongness that settled in her core, she focused on her studies, held herself back from signing tests as "Queen Susan the Gentle", and listened carefully to the youthful gossip her classmates shared in the school bathrooms.

And yet, even in the ordinary environment of a boarding school for girls, the reminder of a life that would never return was ever present. Lying meters away from her in the dark, sitting behind her on class, stroking her now shorter hair, her breath like narnian air hitting her face every time she spoke. And her name was Wendy Moira Angela Darling.

When Susan arrived once more at the Baltimore Boarding School for Ladies, she was resigned to another year of isolation. She would never return to Narnia, and would have to spend the rest of her days hiding from everyone the experience that had defined her. To Susan, this meant she would never have a real friend again, not with her secret forever between them. So when she opened her bedroom door and greeted the girl she would share her nights with, she wasn't expecting more than a light and carefree friendship.

The girl with the blue bow didn't fail to surprise her. There was something about her, something that made her feel like she could tell her anything, because she was good at keeping secrets. Something that made her feel like she was keeping her own.

Maybe the reason behind her suspicions was the splendid stories Wendy told when it was a little too long past their bedtime. No matter how many times she went over her mental list of reasons why it was implausible, Susan couldn't convince herself that those thrilling, oddly specific fairy tales about cheeky flying boys and evil pirates were made up.

Susan thought it was the way she greeted her many younger brothers every weekend, kissing their foreheads and fixing their scarfs so they covered their ears. But the war often turned sisters into mothers. Susan remembered comforting Lucy as they left their home, and, just for a few seconds, she was completely sure there was nothing extraordinary about Wendy Darling.

Considerably stranger was how she insisted on keeping their bedroom window open. Susan blamed this behaviour on the heat (real or imaginary) until october turned the leaves red and gold. Even then, every attempt to get Wendy to let her close the window ended with stuttered excuses that got more ridiculous every day. Soon, she decided she didn't want to pressure Wendy anymore, and proceeded to add more blankets to her bed and sleep with her back to the window.

When the first snow of winter arrived, Susan asked Wendy once more whether she could close the window. The answer, as always, was negative. Susan tried to be understanding. After all, she didn't know what was the root of Wendy's eccentric habit. But this time, no number of blankets was enough to protect them from the cold, and the wind would bring the freezing snowflakes to their faces no matter the angle in which they slept. Susan knew Wendy could feel it too, from the way she shivered, the sound of her teeth chattering filling the dark room.

So she did what would be the most sensible thing to do: She shut the window and went back to bed. Strangely, Wendy didn't protest, and, as the room grew warmer, Susan fell into a deep sleep. However, this wasn't Wendy's case.

Susan woke up the next morning to find her kneeling in front of their bedroom window, looking absently into the horizon. From the shadows under her eyes, Susan could tell she had been there for a while. Her face was pale, and her eyes were injected with blood, from the long hours spent looking for something into the night sky.

- Wendy, what happened?

She asked, but there was no answer. Her roommate's gaze was still lost somewhere else. Where? Susan could not tell.

- What are you looking at?

Still, the girl remained silent. Susan took a deep breath before she spoke again, this time more firmly.

- It's time we go to class. Get dressed, or we'll be late.

At the sudden change of tone, Wendy turned around, and her eyes fixed on Susan's blankly. Then, she blinked and hurried into the bathroom. Once the door closed behind her, Susan let out an exhausted sight.

- Are you going to tell me what's happening?

Susan asked, for the third time that morning. And once more, Wendy continued to look straight ahead, this time, intentionally, as they hurried through the corridors. This time around, she answered her question, although in a rather brusque and rushed manner, atypical of her.

- I just woke up, and yes, it was too early, but there was light coming from the window, and I couldn't sleep because of it, so I thought all I could do was staying up to watch the sunrise, and then the birds started making noises, and at that point I couldn't go back to sleep anymore, so I waited for you to wake up, and maybe I was a little tired, and maybe that's why I didn't reply when you asked what happened. I'm sorry if I scared you but it's nothing. I hope tonight I can rest properly, or else I won't be able to focus and study for the math test.

Susan listened carefully to her explanation, before slamming Wendy against the wall.

- You can tell me, Wendy

Susan insisted, her face so close she could have counted the freckles on her nose.

- I know you've been somewhere, or seen something, something unexplainable. Something - oh God, I hate to use this word, it makes it sound ridiculous but - Something magical.

Wendy's eyes widened. Unable to refute Susan's words, but unwilling to let her secret out, she pushed her off.

- We will.. We will talk about this later, we are going to be late.

She stuttered, turning around. But Susan was quicker, and grabbed her by the wrist.

Wendy yanked away and ran off, heading to the classroom, where they had been supposed to be 10 minutes ago.

Susan ran after her, her knee long pleated skirt waving like a flag. Wendy took a curve, and she followed. Then, her Mary Jane's slipped against the marble floors, and she fell on top of Wendy.

Susan didn't waste this opportunity, grasping her by the shoulders and pinning her to the floor. When she realized what she was doing, she flushed, ashamed.

- This.. got a little out of hand. Sorry - She apologized, still sitting on top of her. - But you have to tell me.

Wendy ignored her, her attention focused on the ceiling.

- Susan

She said, but Susan paid no mind, continuing her interrogation.

- What were you waiting for?

- Susan

Wendy insisted, looking wildly to the sides as she struggled to push Susan off.

- And what about the window? - Suddenly, something lit inside Susan's eyes - It's Peter Pan, right? You were waiting for him?

- Susan, this is not the institute

She exclaimed, now offering no resistance. Her eyes were wide with confusion, and Susan finally looked up to see what she meant.

It was true. They were not at the Baltimore Boarding School for Ladies.

Susan got up, in an incredibly gracious way for a girl who had tripped over so clumsily minutes ago, and gazed around, looking for something that confirmed the feeling on her gut. The immaculate marble floors were unknown to her, and, even when there was something familiar about the elegant men and women posing in the paintings that decorated the walls, she wouldn't have been able to put a name under any of their faces.

It wasn't until she reached the end that she was certain of their location. There, where the hallway parted into two corridors, hanged a single golden frame, considerably larger and more intrincated than the ones she had seen so far.

Susan's eyes instantly focused on the man who was worthy of such ornaments, a man whose face she knew all too well.

He had grown a beard, and his face had lost the softness of his teen years, but his brown eyes were still warm and fierce. She felt a familiar ache in her chest, the longing for her long lost first love.

- Susan, do you know him?

Susan jumped away, suddenly aware of Wendy's closeness.

- Who is he?

Wendy repeated, since Susan hadn't replied in the first place. It seemed it was her turn to be ignored. However, she answered her question seconds later, in a low whisper that could barely be heard in the quiet place.

- Caspian