I think about the crack that is appearing now, before my eyes, in Mel’s faith. Do I tell her that there are more stories than the ones she knows? Will it make something new? Or would it be better, kinder and more beautiful to let her keep her shell of reality smooth and perfect?

I think of the mark on my foot – the egg with the cracks that let the light in. Breathing deeply, I begin.

“You remember you told the lovers’ story at my father’s weighing of the soul ceremony?” I venture. Mel nods. “Well – Featherstone have a different version.” Mel’s eyebrows dip. “It has some of the same things: lovers, a box, a death – of sorts.”

“They tell stories?” Mel asks in disbelief.

“Do you think they are savages? Yes, they tell the same stories you do – but each is like a mirror image. The same, but not.” Mel frowns and shakes her head. “If you will allow me,” I say persuasively, “I think a different story may help you here.”

She nods, slowly, and I begin.

Here’s one you might not have heard, Sana had said – as though there was something illicit in the sharing. And I feel that rush of rebellion now, as I let my lips form the words.

“The story begins like ours. A king and a queen rule over the people but the king is despised by his brother. But in this story, the king and queen lead with cruelty: leaders who care more for power than their people.

“The king, called Metheus, loves the authority he wields over the people and he hungers for more. And so, under the council of his cunning wife, Metheus holds a banquet where he claims that he is undefeatable. He climbs into a casket, which is flung into the river. The king and queen elaborately fake Metheus’ death and when he appears again to the people three days later they are astonished. Their king’s boasts were true: he is indeed favoured by the ancestors. He is their immortal leader, and even though he leaves them hungry and works them hard, he must have pleased the ancestors. The people’s devotion to their king only grows.

“But one man doubts. The king’s brother hears the queen describing how they tricked the people: the king is no more immortal than him. The brother learns another crucial fact: the king is convinced by his own trickery; he believes he has been resurrected and favoured by the ancestors. He is certain that he will not die.

“And so, Metheus’ brother plays a trick. He only means to make a fool of his boastful brother, by holding another banquet and allowing the people to see their king get drunk and make a spectacle of himself. He has not accounted for Metheus’ madness.

“The story ends with Metheus slicing at his skin, offering himself up as everlasting food to his people. And the people see that their king Metheus was just a man who believed his own lie and, eventually, came to a sticky, bloody end.”