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news.”
    I think about how I should have said hello to Colleen; I should have known Bosco wasn’t home to have seen me—he was at court early—and what harm would it have done anyway to simply say hello? I’m angry with myself.
    â€œI can smell your brain burning. You okay?” He sticks his knuckle into my frown and screws it around.
    I laugh. “Yeah, I was just thinking. I didn’t know they had secret Naming Days. I thought it was always public. That’s so sneaky.”
    â€œNot as sneaky as you and me,” Art says, fingers creeping up my cardigan.
    I laugh and stop his hand from traveling, something suddenly on my mind. I look over at Juniper, who is listening to her music so loudly I can hear every word from here.
    I lower my voice. “Do you think Jimmy Child’s wife was put on trial?”
    â€œSerena Child?” he asks, surprised.
    â€œYeah. When you think about it”—because I had been thinking about it, ever since Juniper said it, and on the walk to the bus stop with my new wobbly legs that haven’t been working since I stood up this morning—“every day it wasn’t about him or about what he’d done, but about how she was so annoying and so fake and such a woman , how could he not cheat?”
    Art laughs. “I don’t think that’s exactly what Pia said.” He smiles at me fondly. “‘Reporting live,’” he says, imitating Pia. “‘Isn’t Serena Child such a woman ? How could he not cheat?’”
    I laugh, realizing how stupid it sounds, then turn serious, wanting to be understood. “No, but the way they talked about her looks. The surgery. The clothes. Her past … her cellulite. She’d kissed a girl—so what? Her tan being too orange, her eating disorder when she was fifteen. She went to school with someone who ended up being a bank robber. She never cooked a meal for her husband. He had to keep going to that diner. We learned everything about her. Like she was the one who was Flawed. Not him.”
    Art laughs again, enjoying the ridiculousness of what I’m saying, or perhaps the fact that it’s so surprisingly out of character for me to say it at all. “And why would they put her on trial?”
    â€œSo he gets away with not being Flawed. People say she wasn’t a good wife, so how could he not have cheated? And the star player is still the star.”
    His smile instantly fades, and he looks at me like he doesn’t know me. “Celestine, be careful.”
    I shrug like I don’t care, but my heart is pounding by even saying this aloud. “I was just saying .”
    Juniper has gotten to me. I had been unsure already, and what she said this morning niggles at me more and has me considering the truth in her words. I think about Colleen on her way to the courthouse to see her mother, her mother about to be branded Flawed for traveling to another country to help carry out the wishes of her mother. Does that really make her Flawed? I’m not ready to park this thought yet. It’s Art, the person I share every thought with. Surely I can share one more. He can help sort out these muddled thoughts.
    Art reaches for my hand and I feel safe.
    â€œDo you think it’s bad what Angelina did?” I say quietly.
    He looks at me.
    â€œBecause I’ve been thinking about it. All night. And I don’t think it’s that bad. Not if it’s what her mom wanted. I mean, I can think of worse.”
    â€œOf course there’s worse.”
    â€œSo even though there’s worse, everyone gets branded the same?”
    â€œShe will only get one brand. On her hand. Some people get two.”
    He’s not thinking about this properly. I know he’s not. I know him. His answers are too quick. He is defensive, though I’m not attacking him. This is how it gets when people have discussions about the Flawed. Everyone has such strong