After determining that my great-great-grandma probably wrote that note I found in Luna's diary, I feel betrayed. It feels like a slap in the face: yeah, my future family members will have to deal with this bitch, but oh well, sucks to suck!

But I wonder if I shouldn't just give up and let Luna take the magic from me.

"What? You can't be serious," Julian says as he opens his bag of SunChips and leans over the cafeteria table. "That's a horrible idea."

"But then she'd be off my back and stop screwing with my life!" I take a chip from the bag and cram it in my mouth.

Julian levels me with his glare. "Camryn. You're thinking like Aurora. That might make things easier on you, but what about the havoc Luna could wreak on the rest of the world with that magic?"

I sigh and lean back against the plastic chair. "You're right. So what do we do?"

"We have to figure out a way to stop her."

"You see how well that went for her sister; what makes you think we will do any better?"

He shrugs. "You have me."

I can't help but smile as a warmth spreads from my face to the tips of my toes. "That's true...I do," I whisper as I brush his calf with my foot.

His cheeks flush, and he raises an eyebrow. "Well, I'd like to see—"

"Ms. Young, Mr. Byrne. How's the project coming along?" a monotone voice drones over our heads.

I drop my foot flat on the ground and sit up.

"It's great, Ms. Ferguson," Julian says. "We're almost ready to turn in the first half."

We are?

"Well, that's good to hear. I was thinking the two of you were focusing more on the...ahem...social component of the project," she says with a raised eyebrow before walking out of the cafeteria, swinging her lanyard around her hand.

We look at each other and burst into laughter, and when I can breathe again, I say, "We are so not ready to turn in the first half. We've barely started!" My heart pounds as the anxiety about my grade rushes in.

He grins as we get up from the table to go to our next class. "Sure we have."

"Huh?"

"What do you think I've been doing every afternoon after school before we meet to hang out? Even for the week we weren't talking, I was working on it," he says with a shrug. "I told you I'd let my grade slip if you didn't tell me what the fuck was going on. And you did. So I've held up my end of the bargain."

I forget where we are for a moment and I throw my arms around his neck. "Thank you, Julian. For everything. I don't know what I would've done without you the past few weeks."

He gives me a squeeze and drapes his arm over my shoulders as we walk to class. "You would've had a lot less fun watching your life implode," he says with a straight face, and again, I can't help but laugh.

In bed later that night, I'm reading the diary yet again when a knock at my door breaks the silence. I shove it under my pillow and sit up. "Come in!"

Dad rounds the corner, his hair disheveled from what appears to be a rough day at work. "Hi ladybug. How was your day?" he asks, sitting on the corner of my bed.

"It was fine, nothing special."

"How is everything? Have you talked to Levi?"

Hearing his name strikes a chord, but it doesn't wreck me like it did a few weeks ago. "Not in a while...we've just agreed to stay away from each other, I guess."

"Good. I don't want to have to kick his ass," he jokes.

"Thanks, Dad, but that won't be necessary."

He grins and clears his throat, looking at me as if he's making a difficult but important decision, then says, "Come with me."

I throw the cover off my legs and spring out of bed. "Where are we going?"

"Just to the attic. But there's something I want you to see."

I haven't been to the attic since I was in middle school, and when we climb the ladder that drops from the ceiling, I sneeze, years of dust particles floating around us like a thick cloud of fog.

"I think we might need to dust up here, Dad," I joke, ducking to avoid hitting my head on the low ceiling.

"Ha-ha." He squats down in front of a black trunk and pops open the latches, pulling out a leather-bound book with golden etching on the cover.

"What is that?" I ask, dropping to my knees beside him.

"When you asked me about your mom's family, I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I came up here to see if I could find anything that might help you. I found this in your mom's old trunk, and I wasn't going to show you because you already seemed so scared, but now we know that it was nothing to worry about, I wanted you to have it...it just seemed like something you might find interesting at least."

My stomach is in knots as I take the book from my dad's hands, but the knot loosens a bit when I don't recognize the words on the cover.

"Karoo and Loolo?" I ask, my forehead creasing in confusion. "What is this?"

Dad shrugs. "I haven't looked at it much. Just flipped through it. It seems to be a history book...cultural stuff. Has a lot of words in another language...not sure what it is. I thought it might give you some insight," he says, and I clutch the book to my chest, standing to give him a hug.

"Thank you, Dad," I say, my voice muffled against his worn-in sweatshirt.

"Of course, ladybug. Let me know if there's anything good in there, will ya?"

"Sure thing, Dad."

I am so eager to get back down the ladder and into my room that I almost trip over my own feet on the way down. Grabbing my laptop, I settle into bed and open up Google Translate. First, I type in the word karoo.

Nothing.

Furrowing my brows, I enter the other word on the cover: loolo.

Still nothing.

"What the hell, Google Translate? Get it together." I type the words into a regular Google search, and while there are no straight answers on the first page, I read between the lines and deduce that karoo means moon, while loolo means star in an African language called Mandinka.

A little more research tells me that Mandinka is a language of the Gambian people, and a quick scroll through the online dictionary confirms that there is no actual word for sun, making loolo the closest thing to it.

I open the book and feel defeated when it is written entirely in Mandinka. There is no way I will get through this book tonight...or ever.

With a heavy sigh, I continue flipping the first few pages, but feel a weight lifted from my shoulders when I notice a few translations in the margins. In small, neat print.

I shove my hand under the pillow and pull out the diary, turning right to Aurora's note.

It is the same handwriting.

My great-great-grandmother held this book in her hands...studied it... to figure out how to beat her sister.

This book holds the answers. I only have to piece them together to make it all make sense.

A pebble hits my window and I jump out of bed, my heart slamming against my ribs. Creeping over to the glass, I peek out and someone runs away toward the woods.

With curly hair and a similar physique to mine.

My body quivers in a way I cannot control, and I know I must solve the puzzle soon.

I'm running out of time.