I’m a person, and I’m sixteen years old. But that’s only part of the truth, because Sarah embodies several identities. Only one of them is truly sixteen. Her parents think Sarah is a gifted artist with a promising future, but right now she can’t even draw her own hand. There is also ten-year-old Sarah—bold, with traces of sunburn and vivid memories of a destructive family trip to Mexico. She’s nothing compared to Sarah at twenty-three, with stylish hair and a terrible temper. And there’s Sarah at forty, who can cook an excellent cheese sauce, doesn’t wear a bra, and insists that the sixteen-year-old Sarah reveal the truth about her art teacher. All of them, together with a homeless artist named Earl, wander around Philadelphia, worrying about Sarah’s future. But the real problem lies in the present.