Overhead, it is as though a giant curtain is drawing back. I take a deep breath as the first stars begin to burst through the darkness. I’d almost forgotten how lovely they are.
“Yes,” George murmurs, letting the empty Variant pouch fall to the ground, his eyes fixed skyward. “Here they come.”
The weight in my chest lifts with each new piercing light.
Three.
Then six more.
Ten.
Constellations knit themselves together in the sky.
Bold stars light with single fires. Then clusters of smaller, distant ones appear in soft wisps. I stop looking after a moment and watch everyone’s faces instead.
Joy blooms in my chest.
Beas wears a stunned grin, and Thom is looking only at her. George has dropped to his knees. And Eliza—?steely, controlled Eliza—?covers her mouth with her hands as tears slip over them. Will is looking at the sky as if he could drink it. As if he’s never seen anything more beautiful.
Then he looks at me.
He throws his shovel to the ground.
“Will—” I start to say.
He’s to me in three strides.
He takes my face in his hands and kisses me, deep and tender and glowing with joy, in front of everyone. I don’t think, I just kiss him back, both of us sweat-streaked and covered in dirt, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer as the stars explode into being above our heads. Thom whoops and yells, “Hot diggity dog!” and dips Beas into a long, low kiss.
Eliza looks dazed, a mixture of shock and disbelief at everything happening in front of her. But when George leans forward, she immediately recovers.
“Nope,” she says, stopping him with a manicured hand that is caked with soil. She wipes her damp eyes with her wrist. “Not even once. Not even now.”
“But . . . maybe someday?” George grins. His hair is tousled, his face smeared with dirt. He opens his arms to her while also taking a respectful step back.
“Maybe, Mackelroy,” she says, eyeing him. She smiles. Looks up again at the sky. “But probably not.”
Beas grabs me in an embrace. “You were right, my darling friend!” she whispers. She kisses my temple. “Thank you.”
We whoop and holler and scream, jumping and leaping as we scatter our tools in the field behind my mother’s house, and then we take off running. Soon I’ll come back and plant an entire garden to cover the grave, where no one will ever find it. But for now, the dawn is flooding across the sky and bringing with it the distant sound of horns. “They’re starting to realize,” George yells over his shoulder, and we run even faster.
We reach the main road just as a honking car comes around the bend and, at the sight of us, hurriedly pulls over.
Mr. Fitzpatrick jumps out, with the engine still running. “Can you smell this?” he demands, thrusting a ripped tuft of long grass under our noses.
“Yes!” Beas cries.
“Yes? Yes!” He laughs wildly. “Why? How?”
We look at one another and smother grins that threaten to burst with pride. No one can ever know what we buried, how much power lies dormant in the ground. It is one final secret that we’ll each take to our own graves.
“I have no idea,” George says with a perfectly straight face.
“We must celebrate! Spread the word! The Curse is broken!” Mr. Fitzpatrick climbs into his car. “It’s a new day for Sterling! Redemption Day! Freedom! The Curse is undone!”
There’s a bag overturned in the street up ahead, followed by the strafing of muddy footprints that have taken off into a run. Three, then four, then five more cars pass us, honking and cheering out the window. They pull over at every house along the way to pound on the door and ring the bells. Some of the women even come out in their bathrobes and curlers and climb right into the parade of cars.
One couple is kissing on their front stoop.
