Ruthie keeps to herself, unlike her vibrant sister, Meron. Her mother, a nurse, struggles with compulsive hoarding; their house is full of “piles” and “NEW THINGS,” which prevents Ruthie from inviting anyone over, though she does sneak things out of the house and leave anonymous gifts for people. Compassionate attention from her new crush, Trey, gradually brings Ruthie out of her shell. She makes friends with his social circle and begins to stand up for herself. All the while, she’s processing a diagnosis of vitiligo, which is worsened by the stress she’s under. Diefendorf’s spare poetry traces Ruthie’s development from a lonely girl struggling in isolation to someone able to recognize and articulate her feelings. Trey praises her for being “kind / and generous and fun” and someone who “really sees people.” As trust grows between them, he reveals that he struggles with reading and offers accepting words about Ruthie’s mother’s mental illness. The treatment of Ruthie’s vitiligo is refreshingly casual, with not too much angst surrounding her living with it. Ruthie shares affecting connections with Trey and Meron, and readers will applaud her journey to deciding to come out of hiding and live unapologetically. Ruthie has tan skin and wavy brown hair, and Trey has “deep / chocolate eyes” and light brown skin. Names cue ethnic diversity in the supporting cast.

Dex excels at everything—sports, academics, and meeting his successful parents’ sky-high expectations. His mother is a COO, his father a former college athlete turned real estate broker who preaches “Play / the long game. // Plan / for the future.” When Dex’s volatile temper costs him a spot on the varsity golf team, he’s given a monthlong suspension from sports. During this exile, he finds refuge in the art room where his classmate and love interest, Hazel (who’s facing her own family issues), introduces him to painting. Their collaborative artwork becomes both a creative outlet and a path to emotional regulation for Dex, while offering Hazel the hope of winning much-needed prize money to cover the tuition at their private school. Aro’s verse novel employs sparse, straightforward language that efficiently conveys Dex’s internal struggles without unnecessary flourishes. The golf glossary—presented at the beginning of the book—proves helpful for readers unfamiliar with the sport’s terminology. The story refreshingly portrays a male athlete exploring artistic expression, although the pretty cover design may not appeal to the very readers who would benefit most from Dex’s journey. The story wraps up with conflicts being neatly and easily resolved, but the core message about finding healthy outlets for intense emotions resonates. Dex and Hazel present white.

Assassin Erica Banks returns to New Orleans to execute a series of high-profile hits contracted by a Cuban drug ring. Banks is a highly experienced professional, and at first, the murders leave law enforcement baffled. Lawyer Harry Barnes, a fixer who doesn’t always stick to the right side of the law, gets involved when an ex-girlfriend asks him to help clear the name of her uncle, who was one of the victims: Chick Charbonnet, the umpire who “handed the World Series to the wildly underdog New York Mets” over the Red Sox. Accusations of game-fixing have been stirred up again by his gruesome murder. Barnes enlists his colleague, astute hacker Rhonda Dickerman, to help him look into Chick’s past, and they begin to uncover a much larger conspiracy involving high-rolling gamblers, the international drug trade, and an assassin. While this is technically an Erica Banks novel, with her perspective included, the protagonist of this series installment is very much Barnes. With connections to every major player in town, he robustly fulfills the well-connected, straight-shooting noir stereotype. Barnes’ previous activities are often described in a bit too much detail—the first handful of his reminiscences adequately establish his bona fides, but later inclusions become repetitive as he exhaustively details every meal and drink he consumes. While many of the restaurants visited are New Orleans institutions and furnish local color, the effect loses impact after so many interchangeable iterations. Though Barnes is the primary narrator, chapters from the perspectives of Banks, Dickerman, and several other supporting players provide necessary context and add compelling variety to the narrative. While readers may put together a few heavy-handed clues before Barnes does, the mix of action and investigation will appeal to fans of James Patterson and David Baldacci.

Cassie Bousquet has been estranged from her mother, Marla, and her twin sister, Ana, for years, ever since her marriage to Marsh, a wealthy California businessman. After her mother’s death, she returns to rural Connecticut to help her sister settle their mother’s affairs. While cleaning Marla’s house, they find a manuscript left for them written by their mother’s best friend, AJ Porter, about the unsolved murder of their mother’s distant cousin—the killing occurred in 1985, the year the twins were born. As they read the story, both sisters learn shocking secrets about the mother they thought they knew and begin to repair their relationship (“We need to sort this out, okay? This thing between us”). Cassie questions her marriage, finding something horrifying on a storage drive that her husband gave her; it transpires that she and Ana are in danger, and their family’s dark past is coming full circle. Blanchard’s novel is a masterfully constructed work, balancing the story within the story with excellent pacing. The connection between Cassie’s adult life and her mother’s past is a little far-fetched, but it effectively brings the plotlines together for a nail-biting showdown. Marla and AJ are vividly brought to life in the flashback section; the twin sisters are less distinctive. After all the years Cassie spent floundering in an abusive marriage, only to have her world upended by two massive lies, she seems a bit too together at the end. Ana also seems one-note—she’s initially presented as the ‘good’ twin, and the story makes no effort to subvert that trope. Marsh is too obviously villainous at first, but his portrayal ultimately strikes a perfect balance between menace and craven vulnerability. Any weaknesses in the characterizations are forgivable in light of the satisfying conclusion.

The prolific artworks of Derrick Adams (b. 1970) include painting, sculpture, collage, multisensory installations, performance, video, and public projects, all reflecting Black life and culture. Illustrated by 150 striking color plates, the comprehensive volume offers essays by curators and art critics and an interview with curator Sandra Jackson-Dumont, all of which offer insights into Adams’ practice, goals, and aesthetics. Ringle focuses on Adams’ use of color and form; Alyssa Alexander identifies the artist’s recurring themes of channeling, signaling, and mirroring; Wimberly examines Adams’ connection to Black experience; and Tillet writes about Adams’ “endless fascination with how Black people see each other.” The conversation between Adams and Jackson-Dumont reveals much about the artist’s background, education, and career. Memories of his childhood in a Black, working-class neighborhood, visits to his extended family, and the ambience of Baltimore shape his work. Committed to supporting and democratizing art, he is a teacher and the founder of the nonprofit Charm City Cultural Cultivation and the Last Resort Artist Retreat. Adams, writes Wimberly, is “a theorist, a philosopher, and a social commentator” who “uses accessible language and shared cultural references to illuminate our societal values, our shared histories, and our private aspirations.” One example is Playthings, photographs of wooden Masai sculptures dressed in clothes from Ken, Barbie, and G.I. Joe dolls. The project, Adams says, reflected his aim of exploring the relationship between Black culture and media. Widely exhibited in both solo and group shows, Adams has placed his work in parks, subways, and public places, such as New York City’s Penn Station, inviting people “to live with art, to play with art, and to laugh with art.”