In her room—Wade's childhood room at his parents’ home in Little Italy in lower Manhattan—Nola slouched on the beanbag she had brought with her. Wade was pinning up a motivational poster. “Remember what you wanted to be when you were ten. Just follow that path.” Like when she was at that No-Nukes rally, getting her first taste of stardom and wanting it more than anything. Now, for her and Jenna's sake, she must become a star, so she could get her sister out of Mini-Nazi’s house. The bright eight-year old was composing stories that Beverly had submitted to Newsday’s Kids section. Nevertheless, Jenna’s temper tantrums—at Mini-Nazi’s, at school, on the street—were controlled only by medication.

“How long will it take?” Heat climbed up Nola's cheeks. “I mean, for success?”

Wade laughed. “What’s your timetable?”

“Two years.” Her voice was barely audible. She was being ridiculous; she wasn’t even pretty enough. “When I’m eighteen, I want to prove to the courts that I can make a home for me and Jenna.”

He crouched in front of her. “As good a motivation as any. Now that you are close by, we’ll get working on making you a star.”

Nola nodded. She couldn’t envision it.

He lifted up another poster that read, “We get a fresh start every morning.” Hanging it, he said over his shoulder, “Jenna, too. Even at eight she makes choices every day. Don’t let her choices be yours.”

Wade Dalton, Nola had learned, was the name Waldo Didonato had given himself while working with a voice coach to acquire his private-school diction. He now lived on the Upper East Side, his shirts were handmade in Hong Kong, and he dressed in Brooks Brothers suits despite the implied insult to his tailor father.

“Repackaging myself is the first step to opening doors,” he explained. “Self-improvement means ‘you,’ only better. If we didn’t perfect ourselves, we’d still be living in caves.” Wade did stay true to himself, she noticed, even if he had changed his name. He made no secret of his immigrant-family background. He was a master of networking and collected acquaintances like some people collected stamps. “I have circles of friends from high school and college. I keep up with former colleagues and clients as they move up the corporate ladder,” he explained. Meticulous, driven, he added them all to his Rolodex, which he showed Nola. “Keep a clean record, work hard, be honest and don’t ever renege on a promise. Even those who don’t love me respect me.”