Chapter Three

Nova could not sleep. According to the digital alarm clock Billy had placed in her bedroom the night before, she awoke at precisely 3:04 in the morning. After lying in bed staring at the ceiling for fifteen minutes exactly, she got up, slipped on a brand-new pair of electric-blue slouch socks, and glanced toward the window. It was snowing again. Maybe it would snow so much school would be canceled and she wouldn’t have to go.

She hoped so.

As silently as possible, Nova opened the door that led to the attic and climbed the narrow wooden stairs. Careful to avoid tripping over cardboard boxes, old toys, and holiday decorations, she made her way to the porthole-like window in the far wall.

She pressed her nose against the glass and watched as her breath formed a wet, clear circle in the frost. With one finger, she scraped a little of the frost off and slipped it into her mouth. Like ice cream without a flavor. She liked it. She scraped some more. She placed it on her tongue. Scrape, scrape, scrape, until the frost was gone.

Outside, it was dark. No streetlights, no porch lights, not even an idling car in a neighbor’s driveway. It was perfect for stargazing, if only she had a telescope.

And knew how to use a telescope.

Nova licked a little of the cold dew that was left on the window before finding the moon. As much as she loved stars and their constellations and beautiful cool blue Neptune, her favorite space rock was definitely the moon. She loved staring at it, imagining herself with Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong, taking those first steps on the hard, white surface, planting the American flag.

“One small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.”

She didn’t care what Mama believed about government-orchestrated sound stages. Nova knew in her heart that men had walked on the moon and they’d do it again. Bridget said so.

She closed her eyes and pictured herself as if she was hovering above her own head, hiding in the closet with Bridget at their mama’s house, pretending to be rocketing off on a mission to the moon when it wasn’t safe to be seen.

The first time they went to the moon, Nova was five and Bridget was ten. They were in the closet at Mama’s house. Mama was in the kitchen with the radio on, and a stranger was there. Mama was yelling at the stranger.

“I know what you’re trying to do! You’re trying to steal my children!”

“I assure you, Mrs. Vezina, we are not interested in stealing your children, we are only concerned with their welfare. We have had reports that—”

“Nova needs me! And I need Bridget. She’s the only one who knows what the television secretly broadcasts after the sign-off!”