“That’s so sad, about Dr. Lacamoire,” said Jade. “He could have been with his daughter for thirty-five years, but instead he just let her live her own life. He missed so much.”

Simone nodded. “It’s the saddest thing in the world. It truly is.”

It was sad, but not the saddest thing in the world. I didn’t say that, but I thought it. The saddest thing in the world would be if he never had a chance to apologize. The saddest thing in the world would be if all hope was lost. At least he got the chance to say sorry.

I knew exactly why Dr. Leo Lacamoire didn’t call Lyra sooner. Because what if he did and she never forgave him? What if he said sorry and she hung up the phone? The saddest thing in the world was to live frozen, because you were so unsure of what would happen next.

But he had not done that. He had plunged forward. He had tried, and he had that to hold on to.

“I’m not much for science,” said Simone, “but Leo told me something pretty interesting once.”

“What?” asked Jade. I wasn’t even listening. I was staring off into space, the infinite nothingness that had stolen Leo from his family. Simone put her arms around us.

“The atoms that make us up—you and me and Lyra and Leo and even Obi—are the same atoms that once made up stars,” said Simone. “When stars explode, they send atoms all over the galaxy. Those atoms are like little seeds that form new galaxies. They form us. We’re all made of stardust.” She leaned back and held her hand up to her eyes, staring straight at the sun.

“That makes me feel tiny,” said Jade.

“Little specks,” I said absentmindedly. But Simone shook her head.

“No,” she said softly. “Don’t you see? It makes me feel huge. We are huge. We’re part of this sky, but this sky is also part of us.”

20

AUGUST, PRESENT DAY

Twelve years old

The eclipse was over. All that buildup for a couple of minutes of darkness. But it had been something spectacular, right here in Moose Junction. That I would not forget.

Leo had taken Simone’s car, but she said she could walk back to Eagle’s Nest when Jade offered her a ride.

“It’s far!” I protested. “Three miles, at least . . .”

“I need some fresh air anyway,” Simone said. I had a feeling she wasn’t excited to get back to Leo.

“You girls,” she said, giving us each a hug. “It’ll be okay, all right? Everything will be just fine. You get back to your parents now.”

Jade nodded toward the beat-up Toyota. It had been Blair’s; the I’d Rather Be Dancing bumper sticker was just starting to peel off in the corners. The stupid thing had stubbornly stayed on ever since Blair got her license. It seemed perfect, suddenly, to be hopping into Blair’s car. It was like she was there with us. The three McCourt sisters, returning that telescope so long after we took it. Jade and I rode in silence for a minute before I opened my mouth.