Maura Isles hadn’t wanted to grow up. From the age of five, she’d left her bedroom window open, hoping against hope that Peter would fly down and whisk her away to Never Never land. She knew that there, she would belong and the loneliness and isolation she felt would be no more. She was after all, a Lost Boy.

“This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.” She sighed heavily, wiping her eyes on a tissue before dropping it in the trashcan and tucking the book back into its secret place. Confident her childish secret was well hidden, even from Jane; she crossed into the en-suite bathroom and washed her face quickly, cleaning away the evidence of her sorrow before heading into the living space to check on Jane.

Walking into the open plan living area, Maura stopped and took one final deep breath before forcing a smile on her face and stepping into view.

Nothing.

“Jane?” Every fibre of her being tingled, the house was silent. Jane wasn’t known for her discretion or her silence. She went everywhere like a pocket hurricane. It was one of the things Maura loved the most about her, her ability to fill and room and yet to not overshadow or squash anyone else in it. Heads would turn when she swaggered in and, depending on her mood; people would part to let her through or close in around her, desperate to stand in her warmth and good humour. But now, there was nothing. No baseball or football game playing on the television. No music blaring as Jane danced around the kitchen, singing along loudly and out of tune as she so often did when she thought that she was alone. Nothing. Just the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

“Jane!” she called again, striding into the middle of the room, her gait displaying a confidence that drained from her with every step.
 As she reached the end of the couch, Maura grinned. Long limbs spread haphazardly over the sofa, a leg fallen from the cushions and resting on the floor and a tangle of chocolate brown hair cascading over the cushions. Jane was very clearly asleep. A gentle snore emanating from her, the only sign of life.