The Bridge to Never Land Read Free Page A

Pennsylvania.”
    “Right. And where are we going in two weeks?”
    “Oh yeah,” said Aidan, remembering that the Cooper family was taking their summer-vacation trip to England this year.
    “So when we’re in London, we’ll go find this Draycott Place,” said Sarah. “Meanwhile, we can do some research on the Internet. And I’m going to ask Dad what he knows about who used to own that desk.”
    “Are we going to tell Dad about this?” asked Aidan, pointing at the document.
    “Not yet.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because we found it, and I think we should have the first chance to figure out what it means. We’ll tell him about it later, okay?”
    “No,” said Aidan. “It’s Dad’s desk, so he owns the documents in it. We have to tell him.”
    “No, we most certainly do not. That desk is in our house.
    That makes it just as much ours.”
    “Absolutely not,” said Aidan. “We have to tell Dad. You are not going to change my mind about this.”
    “I’ll introduce you to Amanda Flores,” said Sarah.
    “Deal,” said Aidan immediately. He yawned. “Now please, can I go back to sleep?”
    “Okay,” said Sarah. “Just don’t forget our deal.”
    “I won’t. Don’t you forget your part.”
    “I won’t.” Sarah turned off the light and opened the door.
    “For the record,” Aidan whispered in the darkness, “you are completely insane.”
    “Pleasant dreams.” Sarah quietly shut the door. Holding the books and the document, she tiptoed back to her bedroom. It was well past midnight now, but she was too excited to sleep. She sat on her bed and looked at the covers of the books, which were illustrated with scenes of a flying boy and a heroic girl menaced by cruel pirates and hideous, evil creatures. Sarah knew these stories well; she had read and reread them over the years. But to her they had always been make-believe; there was no flying boy, she knew, and no magical island.
    She set the books on her bed, then went to her window and looked out. The backyard, bathed in moonlight, was dominated by a massive oak. A gust of wind shifted its twisting branches; their shadows writhed on the ground. Sarah looked at them for a moment, then back at the books. A persistent thought kept bubbling up in her mind; she knew it was ridiculous, but somehow she could not completely dismiss it.
    What if it’s not make-believe?

CHAPTER 2
LETTERS IN STONE
    I N LONDON THE COOPER FAMILY stayed at the Cadogan Hotel, a stately brick building on Sloane Street. Sarah and Aidan’s father, Tom, had picked the Cadogan because, in his words, “it has some history.” He loved history.
    Aidan, whose idea of the ancient past was sixth grade, was less enthusiastic about the hotel, especially when he saw the television in the room he was sharing with his sister.
    “It’s not even high definition!” he complained. “What is this, the Middle Ages?”
    His mother, Natalie Cooper, stood in the doorway; she had come from the room next door to check on her children. She was basically an older version of Sarah: tall, slender, and olive-skinned, with wide-set, dramatically dark eyes. And like her daughter, Natalie had a black belt in sarcasm.
    “I know!” she said, gesturing at the children’s elegantly furnished room. “It’s so primitive. We’ll probably have to kill
our own food.”
    Sarah, lying on her bed, snorted.
    “Go ahead, laugh,” said Aidan.
    “Thanks, I will,” said Sarah.
    “Tom,” Natalie called over her shoulder. “Did you bring the squirrel gun?”
    Her husband appeared in the doorway behind her, a tall, rumpled, bespectacled man with a prominent chin and nose. He looked vaguely distracted, as he always did except when he was examining antiques.
    “Did I bring the what ?” he said.
    “Never mind,” said Natalie, exchanging eye rolls with her daughter. She turned to her son and said, “Aidan, we didn’t come to London to watch television. We’re here to do things.”
    “Not now, I hope,” said Sarah,