Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,86
so she shook her head. Slightly had only stayed at the Darling’s house until they were able to reunite him with family. To everyone’s combined relief, Slightly’s only living relative, his great-cousin, who was only twenty-seven, herself, offered to take in Tootles as well. Mr. Darling made good money, but five kids was a squeeze, and seven had been entirely too much for their little house.
Tinkerbelle shoved her feet into her platform go-go boots and zipped up the sides. Then she ran a brush over her spiky blond pixie cut and spritzed her neck with perfume. “Fine,” she announced. “I’m going to tell Slightly you don’t miss him anymore, and he’s going to show up here with Tootles, and Tootles is going to be so excited to see us again that he’ll run around screaming and touch all our stuff.” She flounced out the door.
“TINK, NO—” Wendy scrambled to her feet.
Tinkerbelle squeaked and stumbled forward, clumsy in her platform boots. She slid across the hallway and clomped loudly down the stairs with Wendy hot on her heels. Wendy snagged the back of Tinkerbelle’s turtleneck dress and tugged her backward, trying to beat the other girl into the kitchen, but Tinkerbelle was more determined. She wriggled between Wendy and the wall so she could jump down the next four stairs. Tinkerbelle and her heels crashed onto the landing in the middle of the staircase with a noise so loud that Wendy knew her dad would be checking the wood for dents later. Tinkerbelle stuck the landing at first, but her ankles wobbled and she pinwheeled her arms to steady herself, but it didn’t look like it was working. With a spike of concern, Wendy lunged forward, grabbed Tinkerbelle around the waist to save her, and almost immediately lost her balance as well. They both slid down three more stairs dangerously quickly before Tinkerbelle was able to halt their descent by clinging to the railing.
“What the … fuck?” Prentis asked.
Everyone in the kitchen was frozen and staring. Prentis and the twins, who had real names now but rarely used them, were eating breakfast. Second had paused with his fork halfway to his mouth and was giving Wendy a harsh look that immediately reminded her that she was still wearing the Inuyasha pajamas that Eleanor had given her last Christmas as a joke.
Mrs. Darling was by the stove frying eggs, but she’d turned around completely, her arms folded tightly over her chest, spatula still in hand. Mr. Darling, who had clearly heard Tinkerbelle’s shoes collide with their brand-new wood floors, was in front of the open front door, gazing up at them in dismay.
Finally, standing in the open doorway with their bikes partially inside the house, were Eleanor and Fyodor.
Tinkerbelle, unphased by all the attention, shrugged herself out of Wendy’s grip. “Language, Prentis,” she said prissily, and she flung herself into a dining room chair.
“There had better not be scuffs on those stairs—” Mr. Darling began, but Eleanor shrieked over him excitedly.
“YOU’RE WEARING THEM!”
Wendy looked down at her pajamas in horror and then back up at Fyodor, whose pretty cheeks were lightly pinking like they always did when he saw her.
“They look nice,” Fyodor said politely.
Wendy didn’t dignify that with a response. She slapped her arms over the cartoon faces on her chest and ran back up the stairs without another word.
“You can’t run from our love!” Eleanor shouted.
“And you should have gotten dressed!” Tinkerbelle added ruthlessly.
Wendy slammed her bedroom door behind herself and screamed.
She hated this fucking family.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First, I would like to thank my lovely editors as well as the Imprint team for taking a chance on this as a proposal. Making books with you is always such a joy. Thank you to my lovely partner, Kyle, for the unwavering support. To my amazing beta readers: You really helped me make the best of the last rays of daylight before the dark: Eli, Aija Rose, E. Adkins, Anna Didenkow, Noah Smoyer, Colby Dockery, Makenzie Marts, Maddie, and Jack Simonds. To all the authenticity readers who helped me reach my goals, you’re the true MVPs for writers who insist on representational diversity in their work. Project Gutenberg, thank you for my copies of all Peter Pan and Peter Pan–adjacent media. God bless all the masters and PhD students whose dissertations I read to research this book; all forty-three of you are absolutely bonkers obsessed with Neverland, and that passion was so valuable to the design of this manuscript.
Last but not least, thank you to J.M. Barrie for such a strange and tender story, smartly written and beautifully expanded. It’s a masterpiece.
ALSO BY AUTHOR
The Wicker King
The Weight of the Stars
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
K. Ancrum grew up in Chicago, Illinois, under the illusory rigor of the Chicago public school system. She attended Dominican University to study fashion merchandising but was lured into getting an English degree after spending too many nights experimenting with hard literary criticism and hanging out with unsavory types, like poetry students. Currently, she lives in River North, Chicago, and writes books at work when no one is looking. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by Author
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2021 by Kayla Ancrum
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First hardcover edition, 2021
eBook edition, 2021
eISBN 9781250265296