“No, I really don’t,” I said. “That’s the problem.” “But you know that you do not know,” Michael said. “Which is wise.” I snorted. “If knowing how clueless I am is the measure of wisdom, I am freaking Solomon, Walter Cronkite, and Judge Judy all rolled into one.” Sanya held up his hands with his fingers in a square, framing my face like a photographer. “Always thought you look more like a Judy.”