She doesn’t talk to us like she used to.

John says it’s because of all the meds she’s on, but…I think it may be somewhat intentional. I get it though. Who could blame her? We kinda pushed her to it. Not on purpose, but…still. She said he would come back, but it didn’t make any sense, so…we scoffed it off.

Maybe we deserve this?

The nurse loves Wendy’s name.

She told me like four times unprovoked, said it reminded her of her favorite book growing up. She didn’t go any further. I didn’t care to ask.

She told me that since arriving at the institution, Wendy has only said three different phrases.

1. “Second to the right, and straight on…”
2. “One girl is more use than twenty boys.”
3. “Pretend you don’t remember.”

No idea what any of that means, but okay…thanks sis.

“The second to the right bit,” John said, “sounded familiar,” but he couldn’t place it. The one-girl phrase we agreed sounded like a riddle. The last one sounded more like a warning, but still no idea. John went to the nurse for some context, while I…sat with Wendy.

I didn’t know what to say. I’d always thought she was crazy…

And I get it, some of you are thinking… “but she’s your big sister, you can’t forsake your sister.”

You spend two decades hearing the same nightmare scenario told like a family trip to Key West, and see how you handle it? If it’d been…tea with Melania Trump, pickleball with Rod Serling, or skiing with Amelia Earhart, totally different story, we could’ve pulled her back to reality.

“Wendy?” I asked, her eyes finding mine. “What do you need?”

Her eyes glared, then fell upon you, the black journal, that I had placed at the foot of her bed. She blinked, then uttered something new. “The book…was wrong.”

I was stunned. I thought I’d imagined it. “What book?”

“He got it wrong. The book…was wrong.”

“I don’t know what that means, Wendy.”

“The book…was wrong.”

“The author of…a book got something wrong. What else?”

Wendy nodded. “He…got it wrong.”

“Who is he?”

“Second to the right, and straight on…” Wendy scrunched her face, then went on. “Second to the right, and straight on…” she stopped, then let her mind chew it. “Second to the right, and straight on…”

I held my hand up. “I got it, Wendy. Second to the right, and straight on til morning. I got it…” I trailed off. Why did I say that? It felt clean, like it fit. No idea why, but it felt right. “I don’t know…why I said that. Why did I finish it with that?”

Wendy’s eyes expanded, and for the first time in forever she smiled.

John returned with the nurse. “Alright, so Nurse Johnson has a theory you might—”

“Second to the right, and straight on til morning,” I interrupted, facing them, “What’s that mean? Any idea?”

Nurse Johnson glanced between us, then grinned.