“What could he have said? I wasn’t his boi to praise for answering a hard question or to scold for making the selfish choice to leave. I was a tool, and not a particularly valuable one. I had given Hook what he needed, and he was through with me. He left me on the carpet, crumpled next to my clothes. I later found out that, after walking away from me, Hook left his own party. It’s not far to Neverland. Pan was still there sleeping when Hook pried open one of the big front windows, the one with t...he broken glass that Wendi had crawled through. Pan slept restlessly in Wendi’s big bed, tangled in the sheets, straining against the stained and cigarette-burned cotton. To Hook, he looked like he was fighting sleep, fighting something. Pan is haunted by his past, by pieces of his life that none of us know and maybe even he doesn’t remember anymore, at least when he’s awake. In his sleep, Pan fights the memories of everyone who’s ever hurt him. Sometimes I would wake up and, from my hammock, see Wendi comfort him.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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