I smiled. “Sure is. Do you want me to show you how to get one started? I’m a pro.”

“No, no. Unnecessary. But, er, now that you mention it . . .” He glanced at Simone and my dad, who was showing her a photo of a restaurant on his phone. “There’s something you can help me with.”

Mom suddenly burst back into the room, looking frazzled. “I’m incredibly sorry, but we’re going to need to cut the evening a bit short. Gary, that was J.J. The guests in Robin’s Egg apparently decided to go on a little joyride without a boating license. And with beer. And no concept of how to follow buoys to avoid rocks on the lake.”

Dad groaned. “This is why next summer, we’re not accepting any bachelor parties.”

“We need to handle this. One of us should go help J.J. haul the boat out, and one of us needs to drive the boys back to the cabin.”

“Thank you so much for having us,” Dad said. “Sorry about this.”

“But I didn’t get to look in the Tyler-Weimer!” I burst out. I couldn’t leave without looking through the telescope, and a few stars were finally starting to peek out.

“Another night,” Mom promised me.

“But . . .” Dr. Lacamoire glanced at Simone, a look on his face. Worry? Fear?

“If you all don’t mind, I’d be happy to walk Abby back if she wants to stick around and take a look through the scope,” said Simone.

Mom and Dad looked at each other.

“I’d hate for her to be a bother,” said Dad.

“Um, I’m right here,” I said.

“Not a bother at all!” Dr. Lacamoire assured them.

“Ten minutes,” said Mom, pointing at me. “Then get out of their hair. Text me when you’re home. And Obi needs to go out.”

“Ten minutes,” I repeated back.

“Whoa.”

It was like when you didn’t realize how dirty and sunscreen-smeared your sunglasses were until you wiped them off. I’d never seen the stars so clearly, sprinkled across the sky as if by design.

“Can you spot Aquila? Seems appropriate, given the name of our cabin,” said Dr. Lacamoire. “Eagle. Start with—”

“Altair,” I said, fixing the telescope on one of the brightest stars in the sky.

“Wow,” said Simone, organizing some papers on the desk. “You really do know your stars.”

“My dad takes me out stargazing a lot,” I said. “He would love this.”

“You’ll have to bring him back a different night. He’s more than welcome,” said Dr. Lacamoire. He leaned forward, his eyes affixed out the window. But once again, he wasn’t looking at the stars. He was looking back across the lake.

“Thanks for showing this to me,” I said.

“You know what I love about the stars, Abigail?” said Dr. Lacamoire.

“Abby.”

He continued. “They’re a sort of map. They let you know where you are in the world. There are constellations we can see here that they can’t see in Antarctica right now, or in Ethiopia. And if you go on a sailing trip across the ocean, the stars can guide you the entire way.”