When he comes for Jane, he fits exactly into the shape Wendy’s memory has kept for him, save that the pockets sewn so carefully for him have all torn away. He moves with the same contradictory arrogance and caution around her, and Jane responds with the wondrous fascination her mother once felt so long ago. Some lessons can be learned only if left untaught, so when Jane turns to her with shining face, Wendy steps aside and does not bar the window; makes no protest when Jane follows Peter out into the clouded London sky.
They will be back: Jane because she must grow up, Peter because he can’t, and Wendy will have pity for only one of them. Now, though, she watches the pair of them fly away and can’t help wishing for her own set of invisible wings, just for this night.