She had grown up a non-practicing Jew in a small New England town full of Christians. Once or twice she had been asked by her teachers to explain Hanukkah, and a few times she had been called Jewgirl by some creepy boy, but among all the graffiti on desks in her years at school, she had never seen a swastika. Now here one was, right in her bathroom, spiked and symmetrical, written on her find like “Mary + Kenny” or “Fuck Physics” or “True Love Always.”