"I understand that," I said, even though I had been afraid of someone much smaller than Beverly's father. Smaller and much more indirect in his wickedness, but like Beverly's father, someone I had thought I could trust with my life, someone I expected to love me unconditionally.

"I like it here, too," I told her. "Peter, he's the one who took me to the Island, he turned out to be so... so awful. Being here means I don't have to be around him anymore and it means I get to grow up."

Once I hadn't thought so highly of growing up, but the more time I spent with Peter, the more I realized it wasn't so bad after all.