Page 116 of The Last Lost Girl

As soon as the door closes, I drop to my knees. “I don’t know what to do.”

Belle kneels at my side. “Is it his memories?”

“Yeah.”

“You have to give his shadow back,” she gently tells me. “Even if they’re terrible.”

“They’re far worse than that,” I rasp.

“He can’t go home without it,” she reminds me.

“He won’t want to.”

Belle winces.

I turn pleading eyes to my sister. “Can’t you magically wipe it clean? It would be better for him to have nothing than to have to remember his past.”

“I can’t do that,” she breathes. “I would if I could, Ava. But while my magic is capable of many things, it can’t erase the imprint of a life lived – even if it was a painful one.”

“I could keep it for a time,” I offer. “We could tell him I’m too tired to go on and I need to rest.”

She shakes her head. “While I think you’re incredibly loving and brave for your willingness to take this burden from him, something might happen and you may not get another chance to return it.”

She’s right and I hate it.

“Maybe warn him first?” she suggests softly.

I wipe a tear from my cheek. Then another. Blow out a tense breath. “How?”

“Gently. Then remind him that a home can be built from nothing, and when we leave Neverland, that is what he can build – a home from scratch.”

I nod and press the heel of my palm to my chest. “Okay.”

She waits while I gather my emotions as best I can, then walks to the door and calls the men inside. As she does, I try to think of how best to warn him. What on earth will I say? When he sits across from me, I hold my shadowless hand out for him and hold it. A knot forms in my throat. Tears prick my eyes again, then fall.

He squeezes my hand. “I think I understand. It’s okay, Ava.”

“No, it’s not.” I offer him a shaky smile. “But I want you to know that all homes are built from nothing, at least in the beginning. When we leave this hellhole, you can build one that makes you feel safe. You don’t have to go back to the one you had.”

“Thank you,” he rasps. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He steels his spine and holds out his other hand, ready to meet his past.

I meet it with mine and sob as I push his shadow into his skin. His past isn’t the gentle waterfall everyone else’s has been. It’s a crushing tsunami. When he collapses, I tug him into my arms and cry along with him.

Hudson kneels next to us, quietly waiting until the surge ends. His muscles and lips are as tight as his breathing.

I can tell he wants to drive his hook into something until it breaks, but there is no one to punish. Not here, at least.

I wonder what Sydney’s parents would do if Hook showed up on their step with retribution in his smile.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Sydney says as he straightens a few moments later. He scrubs his face, his mouth. A curse slips from his lips. “I’m so sorry you had to see it.”

“Sydney, I’ll never…” I’ll never tell your story.

“I know you won’t,” he croaks, swiveling his legs to push off the floor. “Thank you for returning my shadow,” he quickly says before hurrying from the room.

The double doors sway in his wake.

thirty-six

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