He couldn’t take it back; he didn’t have it in him. ‘Anyway,’ he muttered as he washed the clams, ‘that’s how it is, I’ll do it myself. Don’t worry, old Koji will do it by himself.’

Chiharu’s belly grew. Her sculpted features thickened. When she walked, she leaned backwards a little to balance the weight. Together she and Satoshi prepared to move to Yufuin. June helped them pack, she saw them off, and all of a sudden she was alone.

It was a year since her arrival. She lived in the empty house. Uncle Koji had indeed left the morning after their argument, and she didn’t bank on him showing up again. Maybe he felt bad about calling her a fox. While June did not know much about the old folktales, she knew enough to understand what he was getting at. A kitsune could be a shapeshifter, a spirit being. It could appear in human form if this suited its purposes; it could come and go as it pleased, play tricks, lead men astray. So this was what Koji believed her mother had done, playing the part of a fox spirit to lure her father. But if anyone was like a fox spirit, June thought, it was Koji, the way he came and went, appearing and disappearing.

She didn’t know if she’d be here the next time he came, still living in the house that neither of them owned. At odd moments, she even found herself craving the certainty of her old life. The rules, the sense of purpose. The relief of surrender, of relinquishing the need to find her way in the world. Then she caught herself. Oh no you don’t, she thought. Never again, kiddo.

If she hadn’t left the Family, she wouldn’t have met Chiharu. She wouldn’t have found out how to make an independent living for herself. And for Naomi.

The answer to this problem came to her like a bolt of lightning, making her wonder why she hadn’t thought of it before. She carried out the transaction not long afterwards. The men came at the appointed time and she let them in. The antiques dealer was there too. He’d been through each room already, giving little verdicts. ‘Very good.’ (The ornate chest.) ‘A lovely piece.’ (The bureau.) ‘Superb condition for its age.’ (The dining setting.) ‘Siamese rosewood, it looks like.’ (The finely worked folding screen.) There was a whole trove of the stuff downstairs, stored away in the shuttered rooms. At the end, he had given her a tally. She read it, nodded and said, ‘Good.’