The Bright Orange Key

Six green checks in a row. Marisol's on a streak.

So when the moon drops her onto a tropical island with a four-word assignment — find the bright orange key — she figures this one might actually be easy. White sand. Palm trees. A simple treasure hunt.

Then she meets the crew. Twenty-five pirates who can't stack a crate. A captain in a magenta scarf who thinks everything locked away belongs to him. And Colonel P****r — a small, ugly, molting parrot who runs morning inspections and holds grudges longer than most people hold jobs.

The key is real. The chest is real. What's inside the chest has been waiting three hundred years for someone to open it.

Marisol tried to warn them. Nobody listened.