Page 105 of The Last Lost Girl

He shakes his head. “She can’t. Pan’s magic won’t let her. The cage and saw repel her magic. If she tries, she’ll get sick, and then none of us will get to leave Neverland. He’ll make sure of it. This is the only chance we have.” He holds out the iron saw. “Please, Ava.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” I tell him. I start to cry, my whole chest shaking.

He is earnest. Scared. Determined. “I do. I promise, I do. Tink is going to heal me as soon as it’s done and then she’s going to take both of us someplace safe.”

I shake my head like no such place exists. But when he holds out the saw again, I weakly close my fingers around its handle.

“Scoot closer,” he tells me.

His breathing is rapid, deep. But he’s so brave when he puts his hand flat on the ground.

“Right here.” He taps a spot on his wrist, even as he holds the shackle taut.

I sit up on my knees and press the serrations against his skin, afraid to push deeper. Shaking my head, I whisper, “I don’t think I can do this.”

He begs me. “I can’t do it on my own, Ava. I tried and I can’t.”

“You’ll hate me. You’re my only friend and you’ll hate me!” I cry, swiping tears away.

“I could never hate you!” he promises. “If you can’t… it’s okay,” he finally says, his chest caving in disappointment and dread.

Furiously wiping hot tears from my eyes, I push the blade harder and hear his hiss when his skin breaks.

“Fast!” he says. “Do it as fast as you can.”

The sound of saw scraping bone, of sinew shredding then giving way, is one my body remembers even if my mind doesn’t. My hands clench and tremble as they remember.

His blood sprays us both. He cries out and kicks at the cage as he writhes on the ground. He can’t hold himself still anymore, so I grip his arm tightly and keep sawing. When the deed is done, I drop his hand and the saw and scream at Smee and Tink to help him.

Smee jumps into the cell and lifts Hudson out. Tinkerbell holds her hand over his mangled wrist, and it begins to heal. In seconds, the skin is smooth.

Hudson’s vision blurs as Smee hauls me out of the hole.

I retch into the grass beside us as Tink lifts Hudson’s prone form, then flies him out of the encampment.

More memories flash.

Of him learning a ship, being voted captain. There is his first kiss, and… “STOP!” I shout.

The torrent stops. I look at Hudson, horrified.

My mouth gapes and everything inside me clenches. Withdraws from him. I look down when I realize that he’s touching me.

“Ava? You’re shaking.” He places the backs of his knuckles on my forehead again.

How can he stand to look at me? To touch me?

I glance at the hand that is whole, then at the hook he wears – because of me. I think of how it felt, the curve gently edging down my skin, and the way it looks when it deftly tears someone apart.

“Oh, God…” I breathe. Tell me I didn’t actually do that to him…

“What’s wrong?”

My whole body quakes. The shadows in my skin rattle like pieces of paper in a stiff breeze.

I lift my hand and place it on Hudson’s chest, then push his shadow back into him. Into his person. Into his soul. He stumbles back a step before planting his feet. His shadow fuses with his person. Then I watch as his eyes unfocus and he sees the memories flicker.

I wonder if they’ll be the same ones I saw or different ones. Please be different.

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