And for the first time in a century, the children of Properton looked at their perfectly manicured lawns, their silent dinners, their pressed uniforms, and wondered: Who are the real naughty ones?

Naughtyville wore its name like a dare.

“Darling,” Miss Purl said, “you’re delightfully human. The only sin in Naughtyville is the sin of pretending.”

The revelation didn’t destroy Naughtyville. It liberated it. And somewhere, a Puritan ghost choked on his tea, because the greatest rebellion, it turns out, is simply refusing to be ashamed of being yourself.

The revelation was this: Naughtyville had never been a punishment.