I knew she’d been mistaken,” he says, never looking away from me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I charge. “You could have warned me. I never would have gone with Pan.” His dark eyes are steady, composed. “You wouldn’t have believed me, lass. You could barely believe you’d found yourself in Neverland.” I open my mouth to argue. . . . But he’s right. I wouldn’t have believed him. Not then. I’m still not sure I believe it.
