“I need some air.” Mel fairly staggers to where her shawl is hung. “Come with me.”

We walk out into the town square, warm sun stroking our bare arms and kissing our cheeks. Mel is used to attracting attention, especially when she is seen without guards or on official business. But I’m certain that my presence is amplifying the stares. The grass in the centre of the town square is intersected with footpaths, all meeting at the statue of Saint. The patches of green are muddied and worn from the crowd who stood here watching Mayor Longsight be marked yesterday. The statue itself has dust and grime clinging to it – an extra layer on Saint’s skinless form. He has never been so neglected; but then, there is a new saviour now.

We are given a wide berth by the people who pass by. I’m not sure whether they are awed by Mel or horrified by me, but it works in our favour. We sit undisturbed on a bench and watch the pigeons while we talk together, processing all that we have found.

“Your story,” I begin, “do you think it’s true – an actual account of what happened for the sisters, or do you think it’s a myth – a tale with a message for us to consider?”

“Interesting that you put those two in opposition. Can’t something be both true and mythical? For me, I think it confirms our suspicions that the skin I showed you tells of a time when the sisters reunited. So, in that sense, it is a true tale – based on reality. But there’s always more to a story than simply acting as a record. It is meant to sit with us and mature until it becomes something powerful.”

I understand what she means. “Either way, I don’t think it’s chance that those stories came to you when they did,” I say. “Mayor Longsight claims to have been restored from the dead – this voice appears. He claims to take on the sins of others – again, this voice. It’s as though … as though it wants you to hear a different story.”

She nods sombrely. “I’m afraid, Leora,” she says quietly. “My stories have always been the ones the people expected – the tales they already knew. I have acted, I thought, in their best interests when I used my voice to support our leaders. But this story – this different ending for the sisters – I would be a lone voice, and no one would want to hear me. Because this story goes against everything we hold dear: the people love their enmity with the blanks; it gives them something to believe in, unites them. They would not know what to do with a message of peace.” She chews her lip. “Mayor Longsight is offering them something extraordinary – the chance to purge sin without suffering. That’s all they want to hear right now.”

I shift my foot to ward off a pigeon that has come too close and it hops away in a flurry of feathers. Uncomfortable with the thoughts in my head, I say them out loud. One of us has to.