Page 102 of The Last Lost Girl

Hudson returned to us from below deck and asked for his shadow back – damn the consequences. He told her he didn’t care what the shadow felt like or why Pan wanted her to restore the people he’d wronged so thoroughly.

In the end, Belle and her magic are vital.

Hudson said that he thinks Pan is messing with her mind so she’ll hold onto the shadows until he can reach her. Reverse psychology at its finest. He insisted that she rid herself of this insidious darkness.

The crew needs her. They can’t save their friends or anyone on the sea without her. And if she is the last of her kind, even with a pinch of the magic she used to possess, so be it. She is still far more powerful than any of us will ever be.

After dinner, she agrees to try to peel his shadow from the others and return it to him. Only his – at least until we see what the shadow does to him. If she can figure out how to do it, that is. Those were the conditions the two negotiated.

She chews her food so slowly, I’m afraid she’s changed her mind.

If she has and announces it in this atmosphere of desperation and guttural pain, I’m worried how the crew will react.

“How did you meet Hudson – this time?” Belle asks.

I wince at the memory. I’m trying to enjoy my meal.

Hudson saves me. “Wraith found her. I killed him, took her off the island, and brought her onto the ship.”

Belle’s face flushes with anger. “What was the nature of your reunion with Wraith?”

The crew is still quiet, but no eye is turned toward shore or sea. They’re all on me. “I didn’t know anything about my…” I clear my throat, “prior visit, but apparently Pan jogged his memory. He told me we used to be family and acted like I’d stabbed him in the back and heart all at once. He said he’d get a reward from Pan for being the one who brought me back to him.”

Belle’s lip curls and she looks like she did the night she threatened to eat Mrs. Jennings’ cat, Garfield.

“So, yeah. Hudson killed him in a gruesome and very final way. But as we reached the skiff, Wraith reappeared beside Pan on the shore.” I leave the goriest parts of the story to her imagination and push them out of my mind as quickly as possible before my stomach revolts at the memory.

Her eyes flick to Hudson. “It seems a lot has transpired between then and now if that was your reintroduction. The two of you have managed to become alarmingly close in the past few weeks.”

“Days, you mean,” I correct.

Her brows scrunch. “No, Ava. It’s been weeks.”

I quirk a brow. “It hasn’t.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Out of everyone aboard this ship, who has had their shadow on their person at all times and their memory intact since coming to Neverland?”

I look at Hudson and my stomach drops. Did I really lose so much time? If so, what else has happened that I’ve already forgotten? Did he write it down? I haven’t seen him write anything since I stepped foot aboard his ship.

“Is she right?”

His lips part. “It’s been more than days, but I don’t know offhand how long.”

Belle swills the water in her glass and glances between us and the other crew members. Then she changes the subject. “I wish Pan didn’t have the power to resurrect. The world would be a better place without Wraith in it,” she muses.

Hudson shrugs unapologetically, then raises his glass in a toast. “Let’s hope he didn’t find all of Grim.”

“Yes, let’s hope.” Belle tilts her head, her delicately tipped ears catching the pale moonlight. “Are you ready?” she asks Hudson.

He nods. Stands. And the two walk to his quarters. The crew and I watch with bated breath, hoping she’s able to return his dark ticket out of Neverland.

Their forms warble across the panes as they move farther into the room.

Their voices parry.

Belle growls in frustration. He begins to pace.

It seems that she can’t separate the shadows...

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