Of all those whom the Never-boy left behind, one remembered. Wendy, white-haired and gasping for her last breaths, clung to the memory of freedom and flying, of mermaids and pirates. She refused to let go of her Peter, and the promise he made her, so many years ago.
Indeed, the window always remained open, whether it was a sweltering summer breeze or frigid winter winds blowing in. It was never closed, and most certainly never barred.
In fact, it was open now, as`Wendy struggled to breathe, to keep her heart beating, to keep her eyes open.
Peter swooped into the darkened room, as a tired and lonely heart stuttered to a stop.