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elite. According to her teacher, the city changed when it was rebuilt. Slums gave way to vibrant arts districts, poverty gave way to wealth, the old industrial ways, polluted and dirty, gave way to new innovation and ideas. San Francisco was now a true modern city of progress—much more than any other city in the nation, even Los Angeles.
    The driver opened the door and helped her mother out. Mama looked like a fine lady in a rose-colored travel gown, complete with corset, bustle, hat, and gloves. The driver gave Noli a hand next, and she tried to remember her manners. Most of the train journey, when she hadn’t been sleeping, proved a refresher course on a lady’s manners.
    “Regardless of our current situation,” her mama had lectured in her Boston clip, “we are Braddocks. The Braddocks and the Montgomerys are fine families. Your breeding shows in every word, every move. I hope you haven’t forgotten everything.”
    “Yes, Mama,” she’d murmured softly, eyes on her lap, shoulders rounded. What choice did she have? Though truly, was being a lady so awful?
    Yes. As a child, she’d been discouraged from thinking, reading, questioning. “Oh, Magnolia, a lady doesn’t need to worry about such things,” they’d told her over and over. Her mother’s beautiful face softened when she noticed Noli’s expression as they stood outside the carriage. “Noli, I understand that you don’t want to go. I don’t want for you to go either. But the court … ” Tears pricked her eyes. “Afterwards, I’ll send you to Boston and no one will ever know about your many … adventures in Los Angeles.”
    Biting her lip, Noli gave her mama a hug. She was the shameful one, sent elsewhere so no one would learn what she’d done. Noli didn’t entirely regret her many “adventures,” but she regretted the pain they’d caused her mother.
    Noli pulled her cape closer. Her mama had quickly altered one of her own gowns for Noli since she didn’t possess anything “suitable for traveling.” The blue traveling suit had crisp blue braid and shiny brass buttons and a matching short cape. The cream gloves on her hands were kidskin and butter soft. The uncomfortable corset and bustle made her fidget even more than usual.
    “I’m so happy the bustle is still in fashion. It does wonders for a lady’s figure.” Her mama adjusted Noli’s hat. The little blue derby with the feathers and a tiny bird had always been Noli’s favorite.
    “You look every inch the lady. Now act like one.”
    “Yes, Mama.” Even though dread pressed down on her chest until it became hard to breathe, she’d grit her teeth and bear this dreadful place. As her mother often pointed out, she’d shamed her family enough. Hopefully, by the time she finished with Findlay, she could talk her mother out of ball season and Boston and into something more practical—like allowing her to build steam sewing machines for the shop to increase productivity.
    Officer Davies got out of the carriage, handing them their valises. The driver carried Noli’s steamer trunk. Her mama insisted she pack her nicest things, which included the two new dresses her mama had made her for her sixteenth birthday, and a ball gown Mama thought would fit with a few tucks in the bust, waist, and hips.
    A ball gown? Did her mother honestly expect her to attend balls at this place? Not that she’d want to attend such dreadful things anyway. Society boys were so boring.
    A few other possessions hid under the clothes, placed in the trunk when her mother wasn’t looking—books, letters from Jeff, and a few photographs, including one of her father.
    Officer Davies took her mother’s arm. The building looked lifeless, abandoned. Though in excellent repair it lacked the warmth inhabited homes possessed. The school seemed to have large grounds. Hopefully they were allowed in the gardens. If kept indoors she’d go mad.
    They passed through the gate and walked down the path, her heart growing