A boy walked into the room. He must have been ten or eleven years old. He had Maureen’s frizzy red hair and freckles. He was also tall and thin like Maureen, but he had a very large head and big joints that seemed out of proportion to his frame, suggesting he still had a lot of growing to do. The boy looked Ann up and down.

“Brooks, honey, this is Ann. She’s going to help us out this afternoon.”

Brooks? Ann thought it was a rich name, like the rich house.

“I told you I don’t need a babysitter,” he said. His tone wasn’t much different than the one Ann had used on her own parents just a few minutes earlier.

“Well, perhaps not, but Ann can get you to the party at Max’s house that you wanted to go to. I can’t, because I’m meeting with a contractor. Ann is in charge while I’m gone, understand? Now go tell Toby you need to get moving. And change, please, into a shirt that doesn’t have a stain.”

Ann couldn’t see a stain on the boy’s polo shirt. It practically glowed white. Everything he wore looked like it was brand-new.

Brooks glared at Ann and ran back down the hallway. She heard his feet thud down the carpeted stairs to what must have been the lower level.

“I’m afraid we’re entering the throes of adolescence. You know how boys are.”

Ann smiled. “I do now. We just adopted a boy.”

“A baby!” Maureen clapped her hands together, and her bracelets jangled. “How wonderful.”

“No, we’re the same age.”

“You mean to tell me your family adopted a teenager?” She said it as if Ann had brought home a bird with a broken wing.

“It was my idea,” she said in her “Ann with a Plan” voice.

“Do you mind if I ask, and I certainly don’t mean to pry, but why?”

Ann went with the easy and honest answer: “He had no place else to go.”

Her parents were the kind of people who always tried to do the right thing, and they often accused Ann of being self-absorbed. Actually, “myopic” was the word her mother used. But she’d gone and done just the sort of thing they’d wanted her to do, even if, deep down, she knew her motives weren’t entirely selfless, and her benevolence gave her cover for the truth: she wanted to be around Michael. How could they refuse?

Maureen seemed stupefied by this. Her mouth hung open, and she leaned forward with her hands on her hips. “That’s incredible! Your family sounds very special. And you, Ann, sound very, very special indeed.”

Ann loved this kind of praise—the way her advocacy on behalf of Michael helped her parents, teachers, and friends see her as more than just a popular girl.