1
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder…or forgetful."
She doesn't cry this year, although he doesn't arrive. She stands in her new frock motionlessly, fists clenched and staring at the stars.
"Come on, Peter," she whispers, "Remember!"
Promises are but careless things to him, like remembering names and practicalities. But she remembers what he's said. He has promised not to forget her. He has promised to take her back to Neverland, where she'll mother the boys again and walk side by side with magic.
But he has forgotten.
"Perhaps you don't know what day it is again," she clucks affectionately. "You never do try to remember. Why, you couldn't recall Tink or Hook last time I asked!"
She scrutinizes the stars even closer at this, while they remain suspiciously silent. In the glistening moonlight, everyone else is fast asleep. They've given up on the possibility that Peter exists; that they'd once been his loyal lost boys. Even Nana doesn't show the slightest unease; that her charges could be taken away again.
She won't give in.
"Remember how you taught us to fly? Second to the right, and straight on till morning. I'd go myself, you know, but I'm afraid I might've forgotten how. I do so want to return, even though Michael's gone to bed—he thinks you aren't real! But he'll come to believe again later. It's much easier to believe when you're around."
She looks expectantly at the night now; sure he's beating his chest in pride. Or perhaps he's frowning in anger, offended at ever being forgotten. Surely he remembers now. Surely, surely he will now be found.
A gust of wind blows into the nursery. She combs through her curls so she's prepared when he comes for her." I hear you, Peter!" Her face lights up. "Are you there?"
The gust dies down. Her eyes are brimmed with trust, but tinges now with something else.
She waits.