Once we were safely beyond the border of Rockledge, Duncan and I would have to split up. I knew this when I sought his help, but the notion of him flying unprotected through the realm unsettled me. Scrivenger’s spies could be anywhere.

And in all honesty, dear reader, I didn’t want to continue alone either. In times of terrible upheaval, it’s nice to have friends and allies by your side. Unfortunately, such occasions don’t cater to particular wishes and desires.

This also moved me to question Prince’s whereabouts again. Did Pinocchio prompt his sudden withdrawal or something else? Regardless of the cause, why hadn’t he came back or sought me out?

The last wisps of a tangerine sunset, and a nudge from Duncan, signaled our exit from Neverland, tugging me from my contemplation. Stoic, Sen flew over to us, a jubilant Peter and Tinker Bell right behind her.

Their sunny enthusiasm clashed with Sen’s bleak mood. Even her hair and skin had lost its remaining luster. I feared Scrivenger’s aspect had supplanted the fairy’s portal and ingratiated its evil contagion into Neverland.

Guilt twisted my belly as I watched her draw nearer. A semi-permanent fixture on my shoulder, Duncan whispered in my ear, his tone suggesting a common concern about Scrivenger and that I owed Sen an apology, “She can’t leave Neverland in her mental state. It’ll make her vulnerable to the PTSD.”

With a bobbing nod, I discharged a weary sigh resigned to beg a pardon from the fairy. She was indispensable to the Resistance and the welfare of the children on the island. And deep down, I recognized she shouldn’t bear the burden of her mother’s mistake. The welfare of the realm was more important than my hurt feelings.

I rearranged my features into a complacent smile just for her. When she spotted my placid expression, her melancholy shifted a fraction. The grim line of her mouth eased a little, but the steadfast guilt in her eyes remained.