There were things that had changed. Blair had always been stressed out about stuff, especially when it came to dance, but she started to take it to a whole new level. I’d see her light on in the middle of the night and hear her stretching, running in place, practicing her turns. When we went shopping for new Christmas dresses that year, Blair had suddenly started crying in the dressing room and wouldn’t tell anyone why. Mom had rubbed her back and talked to her in a quiet voice, just handing over her credit card to Jade and telling us to buy whatever and meet them in the car.

Blair was working a ton on Planet Pirates, too, constantly drawing on her way to and from the ballet studio. It seemed like art was the only thing that calmed her down after dance got her all worked up. If she got done with homework after I’d gone to bed, I’d wake up to her drawings shoved under my door, a sticky note on top. What happens next? it read.

None of us knew. That was the problem. If we had seen what was coming barreling down the road, we would have stopped it. But we were like those poor suckers burying their memories underground, and like Dr. Leo Lacamoire as things slipped out of his grasp. We had no idea of what was to come.

11

AUGUST, PRESENT DAY

Twelve years old

The morning after my midnight escapade, Mom and Dad dragged Jade and me to church, same as every Sunday. Usually I don’t mind Mass that much, but it was hot, and St. Rita’s didn’t have air-conditioning. Whenever anyone complains, Father Peter Patrick reminds them of Jesus living in a desert for forty days with no food or water, and everyone shuts up real fast. But it’s hard to listen to some Big Important Message when you’re sweating through your dress. Jade was trying to text, but Dad took her phone.

Father Peter Patrick was going on and on about perseverance in the face of trials. I thought about what trials I’d been through. The time trials at school when we had to run around the track and I was usually the last one to finish. But I knew that wasn’t what he meant. He meant stuff like Sophie and Lex dumping me, or losing Blair, or figuring out what to do about this time capsule.

Something about what he was saying got to Mom. She talked to Father Peter Patrick for a few minutes after church, and when we got home, she announced that she was cleaning out Blair’s room.

“It’s time for a fresh start,” she said. “A reset.”

“You’re just gonna go in the Sugar Plum Fairy’s room and dig through her stuff?” asked Jade.

“She asked me to,” said Mom. It was only six days until the eclipse, seven until Blair was supposed to come home. “She said dance made her think bad thoughts, and she wanted anything related to it out of there. She even asked me if I could paint. It’s about a billion degrees outside, but I’m in the mood.”