“Your desk is at the back there, on the left. You’ll be sharing with Dolly Swenson.”

“Thank you, miss.”

Hanna made her way to the desk. She sat down, put her books away, and took out her reader. She bent over the book; the sides of the scoop bonnet kept her face all but hidden.

Mr. Harris had said that pupils usually took off their caps and bonnets, but that it was not actually a rule. He had agreed to tell Miss Walters that Hanna would wear her bonnet at school; the fact that she was half-Chinese would be kept from the other students until Hanna was ready for them to know.

“Just for a few days,” Hanna had said to Mr. Harris.

Until I can make a friend. One friend.

Then she could take the bonnet off.

Miss Walters rang the bell, and for a few moments, the room was filled with the lively clatter of the other pupils. Hanna’s seatmate slid in next to her. Hanna hated to be rude, but she didn’t acknowledge the other girl’s presence. It wasn’t until Miss Walters called school to order that she risked a peek at Dolly.

Dolly was a strawberry blonde with skin as pale as bleached muslin. Hanna thought of what Mama had often said about pale skin: that it was considered desirable among Chinese people because it meant a life of privilege. “You don’t have to work outside. In sun, in wind. Only rich people, treasured wife, treasured daughter.”

With that single glance, Hanna also appraised what Dolly was wearing: a dress of fine brown poplin that fit her nicely. But Hanna’s practiced eye saw traces of picked-out seams along the bodice. Which meant that Dolly’s dress had originally been a different size and had been made over for her.

She doesn’t work outdoors, in the fields. Her family doesn’t have enough money for new clothes, but she wants to dress nicely, so someone—her mother, probably—does the best she can with castoffs.

For most of her life, Hanna had made quick conclusions about the people she met, in an effort to guess how they might treat her. The trick was to keep her own conclusions light—never giving them too much weight, in case it turned out they were just plain wrong.

Is Dolly spoiled? Maybe.

The morning went by quickly enough. The teacher was tactful and did not call on Hanna to read or respond on her first day.

Miss Walters was a small woman; the oldest boys were all taller than she was. Her hair was styled with curled bangs; her dress was blue challis with a lace collar and cuffs. Very demure and proper, with one subtle exception: The bodice was buttoned with dark blue roundels made of sparkling cut glass.