Digging up the Past

     A parting in the donations revealed a large hole, about 3 feet wide and twice as deep. A pair of Symols snoozing beside it were seemingly the culprits, soil still clinging to their claws. Overshadowing the hollow earth was a hastily erected metal stage upon which a Red Kacheek stood unsteadily. Rhoda was nervous. The generous evergreen provided the perfect backdrop for Neopia Central's biggest event in years, and as the head of the Neopia Central Historical Society, she was hosting. The air was buzzing with the anticipatory chatter of a mass of Neopets gathered to watch her unveil a time capsule buried 25 years ago beneath the leafy landmark.

     The deep alloyed box lay atop a wooden plinth on the platform before her. It was an oddly shaped thing; not quite square, and some parts appeared to be thicker than others. A garish engraving of a non-symmetrical star adorned the lid, but the sides were smooth and nondescript. Despite its imperfections, it had a sort of humorous charm.

     Staring beyond a jauntily-angled microphone at the curious faces of Neopians below, Rhoda couldn't help but feel a slight nostalgia tug at her heartstrings. She had been volunteering at the Society for almost 10 years, and the crowds weren't as big as they used to be, that was for sure. She closed her eyes and thought back to the young girl that she once was, eagerly holding her mother’s hand among what felt like millions of others when the time capsule was buried. The community’s spirit had incited a warm sense of belonging, which is what drove her to become a member of the NCHS in the first place.

     Opening her eyes again, a small smile crept onto her face as she took in the new faces dotted around the urban scenery. She caught the eye of a valentine Pteri who gave her a shy grin and quickly looked away, to her bemusement. Rhoda was filled with hope that perhaps recent efforts to bring the Neopian public together in new ways was working, after all.

     A gentle hand on the buoyant Kacheek’s shoulder suddenly pulled her head from the clouds. She turned to find her colleague, Markus, a diligent starry Scorchio and, at present, the only other official member of the Neopia Central Historical Society. Over the years, the number of regular volunteers had dwindled, but the pair had remained steadfast in their shared dedication to safeguarding the city's heritage and creating meaningful community experiences. Markus had just finished overseeing the placement of the final commemorative banners across the event grounds, and he looked unsurprised.

     “I knew I’d find you here daydreaming! Are you alright?" Markus inquired jovially.

     Rhoda smiled warmly, shaking off her reverie. "Yes, just lost in thought for a moment there."

     Markus nodded, a small grin forming. "You're up in about three minutes. Are you ready?"

     Rhoda glanced toward the time capsule, then back at Markus. "As ready as I'll ever be!” she said, not convincing anyone. With a nervous chuckle, she continued, “You know me - I’ve been presenting for years, but I’d still like to be a bit more prepared in front of a crowd like this.”

     She was remarking on the fact that, despite her best efforts, she had been unable to find the slightest clue as to what was inside the time capsule. For weeks, she had pored through old stacks of documents at the Welcome Center looking for any information related to the burying ceremony a quarter of a century prior. There had been a few leads: faded posters and promotional leaflets; a weathered event schedule featuring logistics for the appearance of the Sticks ‘N’ Stones; Gelert-eared Neopian Times clippings recounting the performances and celebrations and, falling just short, a fact sheet about the manufacturing of the capsule with instructions on how to open it.

     Although these discoveries had, in Rhoda’s opinion, been fascinating, they had only offered exterior references to the main object at best. Just as she had vented to Markus the previous day, it was fantastic to know that the capsule was made of recycled Nerkmids, but she had nothing to say regarding the main point of the event.

     “I’m totally winging it.” Rhoda half whispered, half groaned, biting her lip with anxiety.

     The Scorchio was sympathetic. "It’ll be okay - I do that every day!” he joked, pointing to his own set of gliders. When that didn’t glean any more than a weak smile from his friend, he tried some more words of encouragement. “The entire event has been coming together beautifully, so all you have to do now is share your enthusiasm. You’ll be just as excited as they are once you get the tin can open!" Markus promised, casting an appreciative gaze over the assembled decorations.

     "It’s been quite the effort," Rhoda agreed quietly, a sense of pride evident in her voice. "Thank you, Markus. I appreciate your help with everything today."

     The Scorchio checked his watch, stifling any urgency in his eyes. "It’s go-time! Do your best; it’s all you can do. I’ll be right up front to help if we lose the microphone.” With a swish of his tail, Markus hurried off to join the front row and watch the spectacle unfold.

     Rhoda exhaled and turned to face the throng of onlookers once more. Their impatient babble hushed into murmurs as she stepped up to the mouthpiece, all eager for the culmination of a quarter-century's anticipation.

     "Welcome, fellow Neopians!” she began, her natural rhythm taking over almost instantly. “As many of you may know, my name is Rhoda, and I’ll be your host this glorious afternoon. I can’t believe the turnout today! Whether you live in Neopia Central or are here from elsewhere in Neopia, know that we are very glad to have you here. The Neopia Central Historical Society has been working tirelessly to make sure the whole community has a positive experience, so to start, I want to extend my deepest thanks to my colleague Markus and everyone who has contributed to making this happen!”

     Rhoda paused, allowing a moment for the murmurs of appreciation, and a few whoops and cheers from members of the crowd. With a chuckle, she continued, "For twenty-five years, this time capsule has rested beneath the roots of our cherished Money Tree. Capturing the essence of the past is important not only to remind us of our heritage, but to emphasise how far we’ve come. I think I can safely say that a lot has changed since the capsule was buried - and if you are old enough to remember, I encourage you to cast your mind back through the years and reflect on how you, and the world around you, have developed.” Rhoda again hesitated, allowing the mist of nostalgia to sink into the minds of the Neopians before her.

     “You are lucky to be here at this moment, on the brink of uncovering the treasures of the past—a testament to our shared roots, our stories, and the continuing changes throughout Neopia." A collective hush fell over the assembly, anticipation thickening the air. Rhoda's eyes sparkled with both excitement and reverence for the momentous occasion as she concluded, "So, without further ado, let us embark on this journey through time together!”

     The rosy Kacheek took a deep breath and reached for the star-adorned lid, running a small Neomail opener around the seams and lifting the cool metal cover. It yielded oddly effortlessly for such a relic. There was a stirring as the audience ascended to the tips of their toes, paws, hooves, and tails in a silent wave to get a closer glimpse of the action.

     “And firstly, honoured guests, we have- we have…” Rhoda trailed off. Her mouth dried up. Peering inside the precarious box, her eyes were met only with steely walls. It was vacant - empty, save for some traces of soil and tiny rocks. Shock and dismay washed over her in waves as she turned towards the expectant audience, her expression a mix of confusion and panic.

     “Eeer…” She managed to utter, floundering. Thinking on her feet, Rhoda felt around inside the box for any sign of a hidden compartment, switch, or false floor, but disappointingly, only dirt and metal were there to greet the Society leader’s paws.

     Beseechingly, she called out, “I’m sorry, but there appears to be some mistake…” Tears formed in her eyes as her worst nightmare unravelled before her. The foremost crowd members were visibly perplexed, turning to their friends and loved ones with questioning gazes and concerned mutterings. Even the Money Tree’s smile dropped.

     Just as the tension threatened to become unbearable, Markus swiftly made his way up the stage steps. Taking a quick peek inside at the capsule’s interior, his mouth opened in shock as he absorbed the issue at hand. As the weight of a thousand questioning voices hung in the air, the Scorchio glanced wide-eyed at Rhoda and the two shared a moment of mutual dread.

     Then, grappling to gain composure, he stepped up to the mic and addressed the doubt-stricken rabble. “Okay everyone, there’s been a slight mishap here, uh…”

     Rhoda could tell that he had started that sentence without knowing where it would end. However, after an awkward pause, he continued, “So, it appears that the capsule suffered a breach at some point in the twenty-five years it was buried. Yes.” He affirmed his own fabrication as all eyes were glued on him.

     “The contents appear to be buried in debris. But don’t panic! We should be able to recover all of the objects. We just need a little more time to get everything out safely. What’s one day after a quarter of a century, right?!” He chuckled nervously, his words carrying a sense of optimism that laboured to turn the chaos into order.

     Stunned faces reacted to the turn of events. Some looked worried, while others were contemplative. Sensing the need for further explanation, Markus carried on, "Let me remind everyone that we have almost the whole weekend of activities and celebrations still ahead of us! The Sticks ‘N’ Stones performance you’ve all been looking forward to is in one hour. Rest assured, we will spread the word as soon as we have a breakthrough, and we can all reconvene later on in the schedule. We thank you for your patience!”

     With that, Markus did a rushed half-turn, leaving the microphone squeaking and teetering on its legs like a rearing Uni as he lifted the time capsule in his arms and quickly walked away. Rhoda trailed behind. Although still bewildered, she was eager to finally escape the spotlight’s glare.

     ***

     Inside the archive room of the Welcome Center, Rhoda was babbling with exasperation. NCHS members had free access to the historical documents there, and she had thought it suitable as a quiet place to regain their thoughts.

     The archives were nestled on the first floor, a small, neglected room filled with a treasure trove of historical documents. Sunlight filtered through a little arch-shaped window, bouncing off tiny dust particles in the air like a swarm of Lightmites. It cast a warm glow upon the rows of wooden bookshelves and stacks of cardboard boxes that lined the cramped space.

     The boxes, some half-open and spilling their contents, added to the chaotic charm of the archives. It was clear that Rhoda had been hard at work in the room, leaving behind plentiful evidence of her exploration of Neopia’s history.

     The disconcerted Kacheek lamented to her companion. "What a disaster! I mean, I never in a million years thought that would happen. I must have looked like such a fool up there. What are we going to do now?" She flicked her tail in agitation, sending up clouds of dust with every thump of the appendage.

     Markus, ever the optimist, replied, "Well, I bought us some time. With any luck, we can figure out where the contents of the time capsule are and go on with the show, as they say.”

     Rhoda sighed, "But how would we know if there was even anything inside it to begin with, let alone what to look for? I never found any proof."

     "Well, I don’t think they buried it as a prank.” Markus alighted from his perch on a cardboard box filled with picture frames and pointed to the small traces of dirt inside the capsule. “For soil to get in here, the adhesive seal must have been broken at some point after it was buried. That's actually what gave me the idea for my little white lie.”

     Closely examining the capsule’s cover, Rhoda observed the Slorg trail of thick, hardened glue in the seam between the lid and the top of the box. It was no surprise that it had been neatly cut through, but she noticed that more earth had made its way in, caked on the inside of the glue surface. “You’re right!” She exclaimed, confirming her friend’s observation. “That must be why it opened so easily.”

     There was a brief digestive pause as the meaning of this revelation sunk in.

     Rhoda, thoughts racing, mused aloud, "Who could have stolen the contents of a buried time capsule and then put it back immaculately? And at what point in the last 25 years did it happen? The culprit could be anywhere by now…”

     As they pondered, Rhoda's eyes caught sight of one of the retro-style promotional posters in her stack of research that she had put to the side, featuring the once most rocking band in Tyrannia. An idea sparked in her mind.

     "Markus," she chimed, determination in her voice. "I think we should speak to the Sticks 'N' Stones before they go on stage.” The Scorchio’s look of puzzlement encouraged her to explain, “Well, you know they played at the event twenty-five years ago, because that’s why we invited them today. Look at this.” She rustled through the stack of yellowed papers and pulled out one of the Neopian Times clippings, pointing to one particular photograph capturing the four band members posing outlandishly around the metal capsule while it was still above ground.

     “I suppose we know for a fact they were at the event,” Markus pondered, “which is more than we can say for anyone else. You’re right - perhaps they can at least point us in the right direction.”

     “Let's not waste any more time," Rhoda prompted, and the companions spurred into action.

     The two colleagues made their way to the Petpet Shop, which had graciously been reserved as a space for the members of Sticks 'N' Stones to prepare for their performance at the adjacent Money Tree. The once bustling shop now held an eerie quietness, the faint scent of hay mingled with the echoes of instruments being tuned creating a unique ambiance. Petpet enclosures lined the walls, their occupants curiously observing the visitors with bright eyes. A solitary White Weewoo perched on a high shelf, observing Rhoda as she clutched the old poster in her hands, a grin stretching across her face.

     "Hello, Sticks ‘N’ Stones!" she exclaimed, holding out the poster. "It’s Rhoda and Markus from the Neopia Central Historical Society. We're big fans, and we were wondering if you could sign this for us. It's a classic piece from the old time capsule event that we found in the city’s archives!"

     Axle Roo, with his charismatic grin, took the poster with a nod. "Ah, memories, right? That was one of our first tours! Man, we were wild back then. Hey, Gruff, remember the time you tried to play upside down?"

     Gruff, the band's laid-back Lupe bassist, chuckled. "Yeah, good times. Things were a bit... sideways back then."

     Sludge, the nimble Nimmo guitarist, added, "Were you guys there too, back in the day? The time capsule thing? What a great event!"

     Rhoda's nod was enthusiastic, her eyes sparkling with sentiment. "Oh, absolutely! I was just a little Kacheek then, but I was there with my mother! That's why I thought you could sign this. As a keepsake, you know?"

     Grizley, the powerful Grarrl drummer, squinted at the poster and looked around for a marker. "Sure thing! But hey, did you manage to get the time capsule stuff all sorted out? We heard about what happened. It sounded like a real headache - and trust me, I know a thing or two about those!" His roaring laughter spooked the Weewoo from its perch, and the creature fluttered into its adjacent hidey-hole with a bell-like cheep.

     Markus chuckled nervously, "Well, it was definitely a setback, but we’re working on getting the contents out as quickly as possible.”

     Rhoda seized the moment, "Actually, speaking of which, we're wondering if you might recall anything that we’ll uncover in the time capsule. Did you stash any of your band merch inside?"

     Axle Roo scratched his head thoughtfully, "You standing there asking me that question is giving me major deja vu! Back in the day, the day of the burial, we had this mega fan who asked us the very same thing.”

     Rhoda's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Another fan? Just like me?"

     The Blumaroo nodded, his shades bouncing, with an amiable smile gracing his lips. "Yeah! A Chia, with the fluffy hair - aagh, what was her name? - she was so convinced we were gonna make it big, and kept telling us to preserve our music for future generations,” he giggled, the marker rasping on the paper as he inked his signature.

     "Aye, Darla, I remember," Sludge chimed in, strumming a note, “She was with the catering crew, used to bring us fresh Hot Cakes and Neocola! We even wrote a song about her!”

     Axle crooned the first lines of Sweet Chia Sublime, the band’s biggest hit. " She’s got a ‘style that it seems to me, Reminds me of a freshly picked strawberry… ”

     The band chuckled nostalgically, and Axle continued in his normal tone, "Funny thing, a few years later, the Super Happy Icy Fun Snow Shop came out with Magical Chia Pops, and suddenly, Chias could actually turn themselves into strawberries!"

     As the musical crew burst into cacophonous laughter, Markus attempted to steer the conversation back. “Wow!” he exclaimed, awe-stricken at the private performance that had occurred in front of them. “Did you take her advice?”

     Gruff scratched his chin thoughtfully, "Hmm, to tell you the truth, she might have taken it herself. A couple of things went missing from backstage that night, so we thought Darla might have put them in the time capsule for us.”

     Rhoda's eyes widened in intrigue, and she glanced at Markus inconspicuously. "Missing things? What kind of things?"

     Grizley leaned forward, his gravelly voice carrying a touch of suspicion. "It wasn't just some random stuff, you know. Personal things, like one of Axle’s chains and Sludge’s favourite guitar pick. Odd choices for a time capsule, if you ask me,” he huffed.

     “Yeah, we would have offered up those things if we just got asked!” Sludge shrugged. “It’s all in the past now. All I know is, we never saw Darla again.”

     There was a break in the conversation as Gruff finished off his addition to the poster, scrawling ink all over his paw with the marker and pressing it to the worn paper, leaving an imprint. Axle picked up the sheet and handed it back to the Historical Society members. “All done! Listen, we gotta get ready to go out on stage, but if you find anything of ours in the capsule, let us know!”

     Rhoda took the priceless piece carefully and nodded, “Of course! We’ll see once we’ve finished digging.”

     “You guys rock- thank you!” Markus added enthusiastically as he shook hands with each of the Sticks ‘N’ Stones.

     As they bid farewell, Grizley added with a grin, "Good luck with the excavation, folks! We'll try and put on a good show for you while you get it figured out. Maybe we can go for four encores again, just like the old days. And hey, if you need a drum solo to break that box open, give me a shout!" The boisterous Grarrl guffawed as they walked out, his booming voice muted to a much more comfortable level by the closure of the small wooden door.

     Outside the Petpet Shop, the evening was drawing in. A large, raucous crowd had gathered again by the stage, most sporting Sticks ‘N’ Stones hats, T-shirts, jackets, or a combination of all three. A crew of helpful Buzz, who had offered to set up the stage, could be seen flitting around with various wires and speakers in tow. As they put the finishing touches together, a huge floodlight lit up the twilight sky like a beacon. Rhoda and Markus shared a look. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” The Kacheek asked knowingly.

     “Darla is definitely a potential culprit,” Markus stated, “and I only know of one place in Neopia that makes fresh Hot Cakes!”

     “Let’s pay a visit to the Food Shop!” Rhoda directed gleefully, bounding down the cobbled pathway.

     ***

     Entering Neopian Fresh Foods, Rhoda and Markus found themselves engulfed in a bustling atmosphere. The savoury aroma of freshly baked breads and sizzling fried goodies wafted through the air, intermingling with the excitement of the store’s patrons.

     The burger-shaped cafe, which had recently had an interior refurbishment, swarmed with activity as Neopians queued out the door to snag last-minute snacks and refreshments for the upcoming concert. New display cases, glistening with an array of delectable treats from classic burgers and milkshakes to new and inventive souffles and punches, tempted the eyes and bellies of every customer. Even the snack stands were brimming with crisps, Neocola, and a variety of Petpet foods to cater to the diverse tastes of Neopia's inhabitants.

     Amidst the flurry of shoppers, the renowned Chia shopkeeper darted about, orchestrating the chaos with practised ease. With a flourish, he slid a tray of fresh Neggs into a tight gap between a dozen Strawberry Tacos and a batch of Creamy Sweet Potato Soup. Their vibrant colours immediately caught the attention of eager Neopians, who swooped in to grab them like Springabees to honey.

     Rhoda and Markus observed the scene as they waited in line, marvelling at the efficiency of the store.

     "Excuse me," Rhoda politely called out to the busy shopkeeper when they reached the front counter, "we're looking for a Chia named Darla. Would you happen to know her?"

     The chef paused in his flurry of activity, a glimmer of recognition lighting up his eyes. "Darla?" He nodded thoughtfully. "Ah, she's my niece, actually. Unfortunately, she's not here today. I could've used an extra set of hands," he expressed whilst flipping a pancake in a metal pan. "Said she was nursing an Achy Head, poor thing."

     Markus leant on the counter casually. "There’s something important we need to talk to her about," he claimed, “so do you know where we might find her?”

     The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow curiously. "It’s important? Did you find something she might've put in that old time capsule years ago?"

     Rhoda and Markus shared a subtle unwillingness to reveal the stolen contents or their recent meeting with the evening’s performers. "Possibly," Rhoda replied cautiously. "We think she might be able to help us with what’s inside."

     The shopkeeper nodded thoughtfully. "Well, she lives in the last house on Bread Street, just up the road from here. She’s probably sleeping it off.” The Chia continued to work on at least eight different dishes simultaneously as he talked, never missing a beat. “Or, otherwise, she might have gone to the pharmacy to get some more Magic Goop," he remarked. Unexpectedly, he took an eye off the kitchen to glance at the queue of hungry concert-goers, an unspoken hint to the duo to hurry their conversation to its conclusion.

     "Well, thank you," Markus said with a grateful nod, withdrawing from the countertop. "We'll try her Neohome first, then. Sorry for holding up the line."

     In return, the chef gave a farewell nod, and the two Society members made their way out of Fresh Foods. Eager to find Darla, they hastened their pace towards the path leading to Bread Street. Rhoda turned to Markus but, before she could say a word, their exit was interrupted by a petite Aisha, kitted out in Sticks 'N' Stones gear.

     "Hey!” She interjected, hurrying to catch up. “I’ll admit, I was eavesdropping in there, so I’m sorry about that," the Aisha began politely, "but I overheard your conversation about Darla. I just couldn’t let you leave. My name is Lietta; I’m her best friend."

     Rhoda and Markus exchanged surprised glances, intrigued by the unexpected, perhaps lucky, encounter.

     "Look, she doesn't really have Achy Head," Lietta spilt conspiratorially, "she just can’t stand the Sticks ‘N’ Stones, or so she says. It’s strange, because we both used to be so obsessed with their music when we were young. I remember when her uncle got hired to cater for one of their tours, and we freaked out! She skipped, like, a whole week of Neoschool to help out, and she got to meet them. I was SO jealous, because my parents wouldn’t let me. But, ever since the time capsule was buried all that time ago, she’s refused to listen to their songs, or attend their concerts, or even talk about them. It happened overnight!” The Aisha finally took a long breath.

     “Oh!” Rhoda exclaimed, taking the opportunity to probe, “so you’ve been going by yourself all these years?”

     Lietta hummed her agreement solemnly. "If you ask me, something happened that night, but she’s always denied it,” she muttered. Then, suddenly brightening up, the chatterbox continued, “so, if you really did find something of hers in the time capsule, maybe it will help her to reconnect with the good times we had! That’s why I had to tell you! If you're looking for her, she's not at home. She's actually down in the old Catacombs getting some peace and quiet.”

     “The Catacombs?” Markus repeated. “That’s… odd. Although I suppose it’s a good place to get away from all the noise.”

     “Thank you for letting us know, Lietta.” Rhoda added. “We’ll go and talk to her and tell her what we’ve found.”

     “Please do!” The enthusiastic Aisha replied. “I need my fellow ‘Sticker’ back, so we can finally go see them at the Concert Hall together! Oh - speaking of which, I need to go, the show’s about to start! Good luck! Goodbye!”

     The Aisha pranced away, putting an end to her effusions. Swivelling towards their new destination, Markus and Rhoda strolled eagerly, their footsteps thudding softly against the path leading to the now-forgotten underground realm. The once-vibrant hub of Neopia's arts and culture had undergone a significant transformation. The creative structures and resources that once thrived two kilometres beneath Neopia Central had been relocated to Roo Island, leaving the Catacombs desolate and void of its former bustling energy.

     As they walked, they reminisced about the relocation process. The Neopia Central Historical Society had been called upon to oversee the careful transfer of the city's historical artefacts to Roo Island, ensuring that the artistic heritage of the city remained intact. Many pieces of significance, such as the renowned bronze Chia Poet statue, had found their new home on the small island amidst the updated Coffee Shop (now called Coffee Cave in a nod to its past, at Rhoda’s suggestion) and arts buildings. Others had been brought above ground but remained integral parts of the charming city, like the monumental gold coin adorning the Collectable Coin shop.

     It was the new Collectable Coin shop behind which the entrance to the Catacombs lay. Markus and Rhoda observed its subdued appearance. The entryway, once a grand gateway leading to the creative labyrinth of the arts, now bore a somewhat neglected air. A weathered stone arch, adorned with a fading Paint Brush motif, marked the threshold to the underground expanse.

     "It's been a while since we've been here," Rhoda remarked, casting a wistful glance at the entrance. "It feels strange seeing it like this."

     Markus nodded in agreement. "Agreed. I know some light needed to be shed on the arts world - literally - but it’s in a sorry state after the move.” He sighed, “we need to put our heads together and come up with an idea of what to do with the space."

     “After this is over, we’ll make it our top priority,” the ambitious Kacheek affirmed.

     Their steps grew purposeful as they crossed through the archway, the faint echo of their footfalls mingling with the musty smell of earth and moss as they descended beneath the surface.

     After some time, Markus and Rhoda entered the main chambers of the Catacombs. They immediately spotted Darla, a green Chia, seated on a weathered stone bench. She had a vibrant, tousled mop of hair on her head, like an Evil Fuzzle, true to the band members’ description. She was engrossed in a dusty old book, her round eyes wide behind a pair of stylish glasses. Her fidgety feet nervously bumped together as she flipped through the pages.

     "Excuse me?" Rhoda gently called out. “Are you Darla?”

     Startled, Darla looked up, her eyes wide with surprise. Her gaze shifted between Markus and Rhoda, unsure of their intentions.

     "We're Markus and Rhoda," Markus began, offering a reassuring smile. "We’re part of the Neopia Central Historical Society. We've actually been searching for you!"

     Darla blinked, curiosity mingling with unease as she held her book loosely between her palms, frozen. "Me? Why?"

     "We're here because of something that happened 25 years ago," Rhoda explained gently. "And, something involving the time capsule buried at the Money Tree that you might know about."

     As Markus and Rhoda relayed their predicament and their recent encounter with the Sticks 'N' Stones, Darla's face paled, her fingers gripping the book tightly.

     "I-I swear, I'm not a thief," Darla stammered, panic evident in her echoing voice. "I took something, but I didn't mean to steal!"

     "Darla, don’t worry," Rhoda assured, her tone empathetic. "We just need the things that were in the time capsule back urgently. Can you tell us what happened?"

     Darla hesitated, her gaze falling to the floor as she closed her novel and put it beside her. "I saw them," she confessed, her voice barely above a murmur. "The Money Tree ghosts..."

To be continued…