“The fourth was a boy called Harald, " my grandmother said. "One morning his skin went all greyish-yellow. Then it became hard and crackly, like the shell of a nut. By evening, the boy had turned to stone."
      "Stone?" I said. "You mean real stone?"
      "Granite," she said. "I'll take you to see him if you like. They still keep him in the house. He stands in the hall, a little stone statue.”

Chapter 1: My Grandmother