“Oh, now,” Dolly said. “I won’t bite, I promise!” She giggled again.

She’s not very . . . reliable. All this time she’s been turning up her nose at me, and she chooses today to start being friendly? Not a coincidence. It’s because most of the other students aren’t here to see it.

Hanna took a little breath and relaxed her arm. Not letting down her guard—she still felt wary about Dolly. But it was nice, walking with a girl her age, even one she had to pretend to like.

“I never knew anybody Chinese before,” Dolly said as they reached the far side of the yard. “It’s kind of exciting.”

“I guess you wouldn’t,” Hanna said quietly. “Dakota Territory isn’t far enough west. There are lots of Chinese, and other Asians, too, if you go farther west.”

“My goodness, this is far enough west for me!” Dolly exclaimed. “I’d love to go back east. Where there are lots of real stores and amusing things to do. It’s so dull out here—there’s never anything to do but work.”

She pouted for a moment, but quickly regained her cheerful mood. “Listen, I want to ask you something. I’m sure you won’t mind, seeing as you already understand about there being no Chinese here. You don’t mind, do you?”

“I won’t know until you ask,” Hanna said.

Dolly shrieked with laughter. “Well, of course you wouldn’t! How silly of me—sometimes I just don’t know what’s going to come out of my mouth!”

Then she pulled a little closer to Hanna. “Your eyes,” she said, “they’re shaped so different. Is it hard for you to see?”

Hanna hadn’t realized that she’d been holding her breath until that moment. She let it out slowly, a tiny bit at a time, which wasn’t easy when what she really wanted to do was to heave a tremendous sigh.

A sigh of weariness.

12

SOMETIMES IT SEEMED TO HER that white people were obsessed with her eyes. She couldn’t begin to count the number of times something like this had happened. Children pulling at the corners of their own eyes to mock her. Children, even adults, calling out “Slanty eyes!” “Slitty eyes!” “Chinaman eyes!”

Then there were those like Dolly, perhaps not meaning to be unkind, but still unthinking. Cruelty was painful. Thoughtlessness was merely exhausting.

Dolly apparently took Hanna’s silence for shyness. “It’s all right—you can tell me,” she said. “I wouldn’t go bearing tales, if it’s something you don’t want anyone else to know.” She gave Hanna a reassuring pat on the arm.

If she thought it would help her get in with the other girls, she’d tell them quicker than I could snap my fingers. “You said yourself, I’m good at spelling.”

Dolly frowned, clearly puzzled by the change of topic. “I did, but—”