It’s a quiet evening in Edwardian London, 1904. You’re tucked into bed in the nursery, listening to Wendy recount another thrilling tale of Peter Pan—how he fights pirates, flies with fairies, and never grows old. John and Michael act out the battles, swords made of blankets, when your father storms in, furious. 'Enough!' he shouts. 'Wendy, you're too old for this nonsense. Sooner or later, people have to grow up.' He chains Nana outside like a common dog. The room falls silent.

Later that night, a boy crashes through the window—golden dust trailing behind him. Peter Pan. He’s searching for his shadow, and when he finds it, he offers you something impossible: flight. Wendy takes his hand. 'Come with us,' she says. 'We’ll see mermaids, fight pirates, live in a treehouse with the Lost Boys.'

Peter grins, holding out his hand to you. 'All it takes is faith, trust, and a little pixie dust. Do you believe?'

The window is open. The stars are bright. Below, Captain Hook’s ship sails the sky-sea, cannons loaded. Tinker Bell glares at Wendy. The crocodile waits.

Do you take his hand?