This time she knew it was the quiet whisper of a voice.
Wendy’s heart clenched painfully. She leaned forward to peer around the corner, down the hallway that led to her parents’ room. All the lights were off and the small strip of space at the bottom of her parents’ door was black.
Wendy’s hand brushed the wall as she crept down the hallway where it was less likely she would step on a squeaky floorboard. She’d done this enough times to know how to linger outside her parents’ room without being seen.
With her hands gripping the doorjamb, Wendy huddled against the wall and pressed her ear against the door. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, ears straining to catch any sound coming from inside the room.
Wendy pressed closer to the door, hoping with every fiber of her being that it had just been the wind, even though it was a humid, breeze-less day in the middle of June.
“My sweet boys…”
Wendy squeezed her eyes shut.
Her mother’s voice had a light ring to it. A melody that Wendy never got to hear anymore. One that was lost in the woods, along with her brothers, and that now only passed her mother’s lips when she was asleep.
“I miss you so much…”
* * *
One night, not more than a week after Wendy had been moved into her new room, she went downstairs to get a glass of milk. On the way back to her room, she thought she heard Michael’s voice coming from her parents’ bedroom. At the sound, Wendy dropped her glass with a quiet thud on the carpet and sprinted on tiptoe to her parents’ door. She pressed her ear against it and heard her mother say, “My sweet boys.”
And then she heard John’s voice. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it was him. It was John and Michael, just inside the door.
Wendy had shoved the door open only to find the room dark. Moonlight from the open window spilled over her mother’s sleeping form. She was lying on her side, light brown hair gathered in loops on her pillow, one hand resting above her head. Her delicate fingers looked like they were reaching for something.
Confused, Wendy looked around. She’d heard her brothers, but they weren’t there. She checked behind the door, but there was no one. Wendy carefully walked up to her mother’s side.
Her eyes were closed, her lashes splayed across the dark circles under her eyes. Her lips parted and she said, the ring in her voice already starting to ebb, “Please come back…”
That was when Wendy discovered her mom was talking to her missing brothers in her sleep. She must have imagined her brothers’ voices. It was nothing but the murmuring of her mother, in some state between sleep and wakefulness, speaking to people who weren’t there, and who might never come back.
When Mr. Darling came home, he had found Wendy at the top of the stairs. She was crying, the neck of her nightshirt dark and damp with tears, as she tried to soak up the spilled milk with a rag.
Without a word, her father gently took the rag from her hand, picked her up, and carried her to her new bed. He flicked on the string of fairy lights and rubbed her back until the hiccups went away and, from sheer exhaustion, she fell asleep.
Now, Wendy let herself slide to the floor. Her cheeks were wet and her nose ran onto the hand she pressed over her mouth.
Eventually, her mother had stopped talking in her sleep. She hadn’t done it in years, but now it was happening again. Wendy let herself take a gasp of air before she pulled her knees in and tucked her head down.
“Sleep, my darlings,” her mother’s gentle voice came from the other side of the door. And then everything was silent, except for Wendy, who remained huddled on the floor, trying to force down the lump in her throat.
Wendy was sweating profusely and her head throbbed. She needed fresh air. She needed to get out of the house, away from her mother’s words and the clawing feeling of being trapped.
Wendy pushed herself up from the floor, ran down the stairs and through the kitchen. She jerked back the sliding glass door and flew into the backyard.
Adrenaline coursed through her veins and pounded in her chest. Chains rattled as she shoved aside the swings and ducked under the abandoned swing set. She felt