Mab is the "normal" one, never mind Bourne Memorial High School has banned that term, and besides, she's a stickler for words and definitions and knows normal isn't normal in Bourne. Monday is a stickler for everything else. She doesn't like abbreviations, contractions, lies, typos, or wearing green clothes on yellow days. When the Bourne library shut down-funds desperately needed elsewhere-she stashed the books under her bed, behind the sofa, along the stairs, inside the microwave, and lends them from home. Mirabel's the smart one, the slow one, the stuck one. Much of her body requires augmentation-she needs a wheelchair to navigate the world, a voice app to speak to it-but her right arm and hand work flawlessly. And so do her brain and her heart. Nora gave her girls "M" names with escalating syllables so she'd be able to keep them straight. As if single parenting sixteen-year-old triplets weren't enough, her two jobs-Bourne's only therapist and its only bartender-are both in unusually high demand. And then there's the job she can't let go-lead plaintiff in Bourne's class-action lawsuit against Bison Chemical. Seventeen years ago, the Bison plant was pumping toxic chemicals into Bourne's river. Flowers stopped blooming. Pets got sick, then their owners did too. A generation was born not quite whole. Nora assures her daughters they're perfect just the way they are, but she's still spent their whole lives fighting to make Bison pay. When a new student at Bourne Memorial High turns out to be the grandson of Bison's CEO, everyone realizes that in a town where nothing ever changes, suddenly everything has. And when Bison announces plans to reopen the plant, the girls take up their mother's cause in a race to find what Bison is hiding and to stop them.