We only had it up halfway, but Leo, in a stroke of unfortunate brilliance, just leaned down and heaved the top off.

“We should have thought of that,” hissed Simone, smacking herself in the forehead. “Duh.”

Leaning down, they started pulling out items. Baseball cards. A Bible. But no telescope.

“No,” he whispered. “No.”

It wasn’t there.

I knew it wouldn’t be there.

And that was the lie.

Because I knew exactly where that telescope was. And I knew it wasn’t in that hole.

“Leo,” I whispered.

He shook his head. He was practically shaking. “But—but that picture. And she swore! She swore this is where she put it!” He put his head in his hands.

“Leo,” I said louder. “I . . .”

Simone put her hand on my arm. “Not now, Abby,” she said quietly. The sun was completely blocked and we stood in darkness. It was incredible, like the middle of the night in the middle of the day. Some confused birds started chirping, and we heard a dull roar come from Main Street. Here it was, the moment I’d been waiting for all summer. Here it was, the moment I could tell the truth.

Tears started to poke behind my eyes, and no matter how hard I blinked, I couldn’t get rid of them. I wished I could go back to when Dr. Leo Lacamoire had first told me about the telescope. No, I wished I could go back to the night I first saw him, when I wished for adventure and the stupid universe gave me exactly what I’d asked for. I would tell the truth this time. I would.

But we couldn’t go back—none of us could. Not me, not Blair, not Dr. Leo Lacamoire, PhD.

“Leo. I know where it is,” I said, choking out a sob. “The telescope . . .”

A car door slammed and we all jumped.

“Who is it?” called out Simone, practically shaking. “Crap,” she muttered. “Crap, crap, crap.”

“Abby?”

And there was Jade. My sister, holding a heavy black case—the same case she had taken from under my bed while Simone and I were picking up Leo. That case had not been underground. It had been in my very own house, in my very own room, waiting to be revealed. The center of that tangled web was inside, being lugged this very minute by the sister I had thought hated me.

Dr. Leo Lacamoire looked at me. Then back to the case. Then back at me. His eyes were confused.

“What’s going on, Abby?” he asked. Simone was staring, too.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice cracking. I was going to cry.

“I tried to hurry,” Jade said, her own voice wobbling. “I thought I could beat you here. I thought—”

I shook my head. This wasn’t Jade’s fault. She dragged the case over, unsure of what to do with it, before deciding to just lay it at my feet. I opened the clunky silver clasps, and there it was—the Star-Gazer Twelve, lying in red velvet.