The questions continued, without skipping a beat.

If she’d been up there, and they’d made it to that point, into overtime and to that very question … she would’ve won States.

She pictured her old fantasy of Quiz Quest: giving the final correct answer that won the game, the balloons and confetti falling down around her, the music playing, a bouquet of roses brought to her as all her teammates basked in her glory and her parents wept in pride. The Supreme Court judge–looking moderators saying they’d never seen anything like it before—this girl was the next Marie Curie.

But instead, there she was, in a regular old assembly room, a moderator wearing a brown suit and standing at a typical auditorium podium, the winning answer in her own head and her head alone.

Sometimes you just knew one.

And within seconds, another question flew by, and the moderator said, “Correct,” tilting his head toward the Ermines. “The answer is Coretta Scott King.”

Their parents and siblings and Mr. Garcia erupted in wild applause, and it was all over.

Marianne jumped to her feet. “We did it!” she yelled to Mr. Garcia over hoots and hollers.

“Yaaaay, Vi!” Marianne heard Vi’s mom say. She held up her phone and took a hundred pictures.

“Da-an, Da-an, Da-an!” Dan’s family chanted, even Andy.

Nina’s parents clutched hands.

“Whoo! Go Ermines!” Lillian and Harper shouted before hugging each other.

As her team jumped up and down and grinned and shook hands with the Morningside kids, Marianne closed her eyes.

She heard someone say, “Come on up here with us, Marianne!”

And, for an instant, she could swear she felt the flutter of confetti swirl around her.

14

IT TURNED OUT THAT A Tree Grows in Brooklyn was a page-turner. By the end, at least. What would happen to little Francie when she became not-so-little Francie? Marianne had to know.

She got to the final two pages as they pulled up to school and five minutes before the bell would ring for the last homeroom.

“Can I just sit in here for one more second?” she asked her mom.

“Nope. Hop out, you. There’s a line here. And good luck! We’re proud of you no matter what!” her mom yelled out a half-open window as she drove off.

Marianne kept the book in front of her, reading as she headed into the front doors.

By the time homeroom began, she’d finished.

It felt sad to complete the story, like saying goodbye to someone you’d never see again.

Before her first class, while Marianne was still lost in the world of Francie, Vi cornered her between the end of a row of lockers and a door leading to the stairwell.

Marianne hadn’t talked one-on-one with Vi since the competition a couple days before. They’d sat together among all the Ermines while they spent a few lunches recounting each moment of glory in detail, stood side by side as Ms. Clarke gave them a congratulations speech while posting a picture of the Ermines holding the trophy onto the school bulletin board, and blushed in unison as Mr. Garcia forced the math class to applaud their achievement.