There is a long silence, while I try to decide what to tell him. As I look in his dark eyes, I realize only the truth will do. Turning my back on Nico, I tell Socrates everything.

Much to my surprise and her disgust, he isn't angry or afraid. Instead, as I unfold my story to him, he becomes more and more enraptured, folding to the floor with his elbows on his knees, fists supporting his chin, listening to me like a kid wrapped up in his favorite bedtime story. Emile takes her ...