Secrets are tricky things. For many years, I was one of the few who knew about Captain Hook’s daughter, Jocelyn, and the way she succeeded in avenging him upon the Neverland’s monstrous crocodile. I held that knowledge close to my chest, gripping it tight as a new puppy, though at times the story wriggled and nipped, desperate to be put down.

There came a point where the burden grew too heavy. I thought that telling the world about the girl and her heroic victory would allow me some measure of relief, but it would not do. I have merely exchanged one affliction for another. Since I last had the misfortune of speaking to you, I am followed by throngs of children wherever I go. They reach for me with sticky hands, plead with lips stained by sweets, and constantly fill my ears with their unceasing, high-pitched refrain: “What happened next? Did Jocelyn find Hook’s treasure?”

Even now, here you sit with your scabbed-over knees and insipid smile, waiting for me to tell you the tale. Without any effort, I can think of a dozen more pleasant ways to rid myself of your presence—ways that reduce you to nothing more than a stain and a memory—but still the remaining secrets I carry would demand to be released. And so, for my own sake, I must continue down this path and see it through to the bitter end.

It is true that Jocelyn’s adventures did not end with the killing of the crocodile, nor with the return of her lost boy. There is more to be told. Much more.

Let’s get this over with.