It's rare when a book is decidedly grim—dire, even—yet still manages to be as full of comfort, humor and hope as One Two Three, a thought-provoking allegory about corporate greed, environmental activism, parent-child relationships and the bonds and betrayals of sisterly love. 

The residents of the fictional town of Bourne were poisoned 17 years ago by a chemical leak into the water supply, and "the only people who did not die or leave were the ones who could not." The Mitchell family is among those still stuck in the fading, abandoned town, with matriarch Nora struggling for years to make ends meet and to bring a class-action lawsuit against Belsum Chemical. The leak caused her husband's death not long before their triplet daughters were born, two of whom were affected in utero by the chemical. 

With nicknames "One," "Two" and "Three," the girls, now 16 years old, take turns narrating. Mab describes herself as "a boring straight white girl"; Monday is autistic and maintains what's left of Bourne's library in their small home; and Mirabel is super smart but can't walk or talk, so she communicates electronically through an app she calls "the Voice." Frankel reveals their stories in artful prose laced with humor, much of it dark. For instance, when Mirabel gets angry at her sisters, she reminds herself "that if I killed them both I would never be able to use the toilet again when my mother was not home."

The town is filled with wonderful characters, including Mrs. Shriver, the high school teacher who teaches history achronologically because she doesn't believe in cause and effect. The plot takes off when a new student arrives from Boston named River Templeton. He's the descendant of Belsum's founders, who have plans to reopen the plant. Mab and Mirabel quickly fall for River, while all three sisters scheme clever ways to use him to gather information that will help their mother's lawsuit.

The result is a warm, funny tour de force that has much to say about big business, the ways that tragedies unfold, the power of citizens to effect change and the passing of civic responsibility from one generation to the next. As Mirabel explains, "It's not our mother—our mothers, the last generation—who can fix this. They can't. It is up to us now, the daughters, to move our town forward, to save us all, to tell a different story." One Two Three is a very different story indeed—one that is delightfully memorable and wildly empowering.

Triplet sisters Mab, Monday, and Mirabel Mitchell were born in Bourne 16 years ago, the same year a disaster at the local chemical plant left the town reeling. Mab describes herself as the "normal" sister; studious and social, she wonders if a "normal" future is possible for her outside of Bourne. Monday is on the autism spectrum, can't lie, and takes on the role of town librarian after the local library shuts down. Mirabel uses a wheelchair to move and assistive technology to speak, and is a sharp observer of Bourne's residents. Their mother, the town's therapist and bartender, is dedicated to bringing a lawsuit against the chemical plant owners. When a new kid, River Templeton, grandson of the plant's CEO, shows up at school, news spreads that the plant will reopen. The Mitchell sisters each play to their strengths to piece together what's happening at the plant, and learn more about themselves and their town along the way. VERDICT The residents of Bourne are scrappy, resilient, and unforgettable. Frankel's (This Is How It Always Is) novel is part Erin Brockovich, part coming-of-age novel, and sure to spark lively discussions at book club meetings.—Emily Hamstra, Seattle

In Frankel's tender-hearted latest (after This Is How It Always Is), old wounds are reopened in a small town ravaged by industrial pollution. Triplets Mab, Monday, and Mirabel Mitchell, 16, were born in the wake of a chemical spill in their hometown. Mab longs to do well on her SATs so she can get into college and move away; Monday is on the autism spectrum and hoards books; and wheelchair-using Mirabel suffers from birth defects, but lives a rich internal life. Their therapist mother, Nora, is still fighting as part of a class-action lawsuit against the chemical company responsible for the spill. One day, the three sisters are introduced to a new student at their high school, River Thornton, grandson of the chemical company owner. His disruptive presence, and news that the plant will soon reopen, create a schism in the town and among the three sisters, which Mab, Monday, and Mirabel resolve to rectify with a grand and desperate action. Frankel's sharp plotting—with several surprising reversals—and memorable characters reflect a deep imagination that adds texture and complexity to what would otherwise be a fairly familiar setup. Readers will be captivated by this story of adversity and resilience. (June)

Gr 9 Up—The bonds of sisterhood from Jenny Han's To All the Boys I've Loved Before meet the environmental sleuthing of Amy Allgeyer's Dig Too Deep in this beautiful, character-driven title. Mab, Monday, and Mirabel have the misfortune of being born in Bourne, a town ravaged by the Belsum chemical company owned by the Templetons, a family who is indifferent to the birth defects and untimely deaths the effluence from their factory have caused. Mab seems to have escaped the worst of it, but Monday is clearly neurodivergent, and Mirabel has a brilliant mind trapped in a body that does not allow her to speak, move, or breathe comfortably without support. Their mother, widowed prior to their birth, does triple duty keeping the tattered class action lawsuit alive, providing counseling by day to the few remaining town inhabitants and slinging beers at the local tavern at night. The sudden reappearance of the Templeton family brings their youngest heir, River, to a town that is openly hostile, even as his father begins a campaign to revive the business. Frankel imbues each of the triplets with a unique voice and packs what could be a maudlin cautionary tale with love and humor that transcends the abuse of economic power and privilege. The triplets are white; there is diversity within the town. VERDICT Readers will be reluctant to say goodbye to the residents of this story that will be popular with fans of Sara Dessen or Jodi Picoult.—Jodeana Kruse, R.A. Long H.S., Longview, WA