But by the end of lunch, she had her poem written.

And by the end of lunch, I had my letter.

How Grown-Ups Listen

I had waited what felt like days and days after sending the email to Knight-Rowell Publishing, and still hadn’t heard anything. That’s when I decided to call.

A woman with a high-pitched voice answered. “Knight-Rowell Publishing. How may I assist you?”

I cleared my throat. I had my answer ready.

“Hello. May I please speak with Trent Hickman?”

That was the name on the title page of my textbook. Right next to Edited by.

“I’m afraid Mr. Hickman isn’t available for phone calls, but I would be happy to take a message for you.”

I imagined this woman in too-high heels that made it hard to walk and hair pulled so far back you could see up her nose.

“Well, I really need to speak with him,” I said. “When would he be available?”

“I can take a message for you and he will get back to you as soon as possible. What was your name?”

Her voice sounded even higher.

Maybe he had his own separate email, and my note from the form on the website hadn’t gotten to him. “What about his email?” I said.

“I’m afraid I can’t give out that information, but if you’ll tell me your name I’ll pass along the message.”

I fell back onto my bed. “Libby Monroe.” I told the woman I needed to speak with him as soon as possible, and I gave her my phone number.

“And what is this about?” she asked.

“It’s about Cecilia Payne,” I said.

I waited for her to say something else, to say goodbye and hang up, but she paused for a second and then asked, “How old are you?”

I was 98 percent sure this was not a woman who took twelve-year-olds seriously.

“Please have him call me,” I said.

Then we hung up.

I was 98 percent sure he would never get my message.

I looked at my poster of the Milky Way. If he never called it only meant I’d have to try something else. A star didn’t stop burning just because some space debris got in its way. Maybe an actual mailed letter would work. After a bit of looking around on the website, I found the Knight-Rowell Publishing address. I got to work writing another letter, a letter especially to Mr. Trent Hickman about a certain smart woman scientist who I thought should be in his textbook.

Second Draft

I printed and carefully folded my letter to Mr. Trent Hickman, and put it in the mailbox, sending my words and wishes out into the world. And the words didn’t stop there, either. I also gave Ms. Trepky my Smithsonian Cecilia Payne letter to look at.

Look how much progress we’re making, I told Cecilia. Ms. Trepky is going to help me help you.

The very next day, Ms. Trepky was waiting for me by the door after class. She had a manila envelope in her hand. “Libby, may I see you for one moment?” she said.