“There’s only one shovel,” I said desperately, my last-ditch attempt.

“Abby,” said Simone, grabbing my wrists. Her hands were sweaty. “I know we’re asking you to do something ridiculous. But—Leo has been through so much. He is so, so desperate. I am begging you to help me out on this.”

Harriet’s face flashed through my mind. Oh, this is why you don’t lie! The tangled web, Mr. Linn had quoted in English. That stupid tangled web I had woven.

But what could I say? There she was.

“Dad,” I said, turning around. “Dad!” He had been talking with Harrison and his kids about which setting on their iPhones would take better eclipse photos, but now he turned to look at me. “I have to go somewhere. I’ll be right back.”

“What? Where on earth could you have to go?” We were practically yelling to each other over the noise.

“I forgot my eclipse glasses.”

“Abigail! How could you? But I’m sure we could buy some around here . . . or you can just look through mine.”

I shook my head. “No. I need those specific ones. I’ll be right back. Simone can drive me.”

“My car’s only a street over,” she told Dad.

“Abby, geez! Run like the wind,” said Dad. “Traffic is going to be horrible. Hurry! You can’t miss this. It’s what we’ve been waiting for.”

Simone and I raced to her car, not one street over, but a solid three blocks. We hopped in and she slammed on the gas, weaving in and out of tourists looking for parking spots. I held on for dear life.

We stopped at Eagle’s Nest, and Dr. Leo Lacamoire came outside, looking terrified. I was about to learn so much. So many questions were going to be answered. But in that exact moment, all that I saw was a scared, sad old man—nothing like the man in the TED Talk. This one didn’t look like he could find his shoes, let alone a new planet.

He got in the car, slamming the door.

My phone buzzed. It was Dad—where ru?

“Maybe I shouldn’t do this,” I said weakly. “I promised my dad I would watch this with him ages ago. It’s, like, our special thing . . . if you’re going to dig it up, you don’t need me.”

Leo waved something in front of my face. I looked a little closer—it was a business card. Joanna Creech.

“Just like I promised,” he said. “She owes me; I’ve made her piles of money. You helped us find where it was, now you’ll help us get it out. I’m an old man and my back isn’t what it used to be.”

There was no getting out of this.

We sped down the road to the library, bypassing Main Street. There was the crowd of people, and among the miles of tourists, I saw a few familiar faces. Miss Mae, in a shiny American flag T-shirt. Joe from Hank’s Hardware and More, giving someone directions. My own parents. And—