Wendy, John, and Michael Darling, along with the adopted Lost Boys, were growing up.
Of course, they weren't grown ups yet. But they were beginning to let go of their childhood and move on to bigger and better things promised in the world of adults.
There was a bit of reluctance to let go of their childhood. For Wendy especially. She would dream of the wonderful boy Peter Pan often, and for a long while her window was left open always, despite the weather or the temperature of London. Peter's acorn kiss had been her most prized possession when she was thirteen. But now, for a young woman at the age of nearly nineteen, it was a mere trinket. She wore it anyways though, for it made a charming accessory on a chain around her neck.
Neverland was merely a fantastical dream to them now. They weren't quite sure whether it had happened or not. The images in their minds were vivid enough to be memories yet so strange the Darlings denied their existence possible. Fairies? Mermaids? Indians and pirates? Such marvelous ideas, yes. But according to Father, absolute poppycock.
Wendy told stories to her brothers less and less also. Not because she had run out of ideas. But simply because they were either too tired or too busy to hear them. The boys were making their way into society and education, their schedules filled with 'to-dos' and 'don't forgets'. Wendy now told her stories on paper. Every time a new idea struck her, she would jot it down in her notebook and start to develop it. Mostly her stories were adventures – quite a few of them taking place in Neverland alongside Peter Pan.
Peter Pan. The name still made Wendy smile. But she had less desire for him to return and whisk her away to Neverland than she had when she was thirteen. Her life was now filled with charming, young gentlemen, who would call for her and take her out to lovely restaurants and operas. Wendy liked them. But none of them really made a lasting impression. Not the way Peter had. Even though the boy was in her thoughts less and less, he still lingered there.
Adulthood was calling to the Darling children. Little did they know that one boy was about to prevent them from answering.