There were even a couple of Mrs. Arroyo from when Jordan was a baby, before she passed away.
Wendy’s house didn’t have any family photos like that. The walls were mostly bare, except for a few Monet prints her mother had bought ages ago. Time had faded the vibrant colors to mostly pale shades of blue.
Wendy stepped into Jordan’s room and Jordan shut the door behind them. The four walls were covered in black, red, and purple—a complete eyesore. There were pennants and posters of the Portland Thorns—Jordan’s beloved soccer team—covering the walls, all clad in crimson and black. Jordan’s medals hung on the wall from purple ribbons. The rest of her room was an absolute mess, as always. There was a heap of clothes in the corner and every surface was littered with a combination of magazines, trophies, and actual garbage.
But Jordan’s room also had a window that cast the best light and a watery blue comforter. She had pictures of herself and her friends taped all over her headboard. Several included Wendy. Most were of her grimacing while Jordan, arm hooked around her, beamed widely at the camera.
Wendy sat down on the edge of the bed. Jordan tugged out her desk chair, pushed off the pile of shoes, and sat in front of her. “What happened?” Jordan asked, leaning forward and placing a hand on her upper arm.
Wendy could feel panic starting to reach its way up her throat again. She licked her lips and took a deep breath before telling Jordan everything that had happened the night before.
Jordan sat and listened intently, the corners of her mouth pulled down in a frown. Her eyebrows flickered upward now and then, but she never cut Wendy off to ask questions.
When she started to tell Jordan about that morning, words failed her.
“And the detectives said … they said maybe he had been with us—wherever we were—so he might know something?” Wendy rubbed her arms, trying to fight off the goosebumps. “Maybe he knows where my brothers are?”
There was silence. Jordan sat back and let out a puff of air. Wendy tried to steady her breathing, but that just made it even more difficult.
“How old is he?” Jordan asked.
“I don’t know. He looked about my height, younger than us, though … Maybe a freshman?” Wendy pressed her thumbnail into her palm as she watched Jordan nod. It occurred to Wendy that if this boy was around her and her brothers’ ages when they went missing, maybe that could provide some kind of connection.
“And you don’t recognize him?”
Again, the question made her heart beat faster. She couldn’t tell Jordan she thought he could be Peter Pan. Jordan, who had been the only one at school to really believe her when she said she couldn’t remember what had happened to her and her brothers, had never pressed or doubted her, but even her best friend would never believe something like this. No, Wendy couldn’t do that, not when it was just so entirely impossible.
Wendy shook her head.
“And they haven’t found him?” Jordan asked, running a hand through her curls.
“Not that I know of … But I—I don’t—”
“You don’t want them to?” she guessed.
“No!” Wendy shook her head. “It’s not that. If he does know, then of course I want the police to know so they can find my brothers.” She was having a hard time meeting Jordan’s watchful gaze. “This is the first time in five years we’ve had any new information, any hope of finding them,” she went on. “But, it’s—it’s still…”
“Terrifying,” Jordan finished quietly.
Wendy nodded.
Jordan stared past Wendy, frowning at the opposite wall.
Jordan had been there before, during, and after the disappearance. When Wendy was finally allowed to go back home, Jordan was the only person from school who stopped by to see her. She acted like nothing had happened, and, while they refused to go into the backyard for several years, they did play board games and put puzzles together in the living room.
Sometimes Mr. Arroyo even let them play catch in the house, as long as it was with a Nerf ball that couldn’t cause too much damage.
A couple of times, when Wendy was in the hospital, Mr. Arroyo and Jordan had tried to visit her, but the doctors always explained the “delicate” state she was in and that she shouldn’t see anyone who might trigger emotional distress.
Ever since, Wendy had felt overwhelming gratitude to Jordan and her dad. She felt so lucky to have them and indebted for her