Page 1 of The Secret Keeper's Daughter

Chapter

One

If it snows any harder,I won’t be able to finish my normal day’s workload—not that the weather would be an acceptable excuse for Gunnar. My stepfather’s expectations have never been reasonable, particularly where I’m concerned. I’d run away if it weren’t for my mother, and I’d take her with me if he wouldn’t kill me for it. If leaving wouldn’t killher.

Thinking of her pushes me to work harder. Ever since she got sick, I’ve been relegated to menial work. Gunnar knows I won’t tell her because the last thing I want is to add to her worries when she can’t even get out of bed. She’s already concerned about us kids, and especially me.

I keep telling her I’ll be fine, and I will be. I’m just not sure what that’ll look like. Though her husband is the only father figure I’ve ever known, he’s always made it clear I’m not his. Once Mother’s illness finally wins, he’s either going to give me worse work—if possible—or banish me from the family’s farm.

He never misses an opportunity to remind me I don’t belong, and he’ll never give me anything of his.

I toss the steaming horse manure into a bucket then set the shovel aside. It’s almost impossible to see the house through thesquall. As snowflakes dance to the ground, I plead to the skies for help. I’m not sure anyone up there is listening, or if there’s any entities up there at all, but I really don’t have any other option.

Nobody down here can do anything for me, and Gunnar won’t.

“Eira! Eira!”

Instinctively, I grab the shovel and start scooping more excrement.

My youngest sister Runa hurries toward me. She slips on the ice then skids to a stop inches from me, gasping for air and loosening the top of her fur coat. “I ran all… the way here… Mother… she…”

“Stop!” I don’t wait to hear the rest. There’s only one reason anyone would race all this way to tell me about Mother.

She’s near the end. This is it. The only reason Runa is here.

The silent tears trailing down my sister’s pale cheeks tell me I’m right. She tucks one of her tiny, nearly-white braids behind an ear and chews on her lower lip. More tears pool in her light eyes.

I need to be strong for her, for all of my siblings. In any other situation, as the oldest daughter I’d have been slated to step into Mother’s role as caregiver and head of household duties the moment she got sick. Definitely once she leaves the earth. I’ll do what I can while I’m able, assuming Gunnar hasn’t already thrown my things into the fire.

And assuming she hasn’t already passed away.

That’s a thought I can’t even comprehend.

I take Runa’s hand, her skin looking even paler next to mine. “Let’s go.”

She sniffles as she nods, then we burst into a run. Snowflakes smack my face in tiny icy bursts, but I ignore them. Thankfully my fur coat protects the rest of my body. Between the heavy peltsand running from the animal fields to the house, I’m drenched in sweat as my sister and I race up the creaky front steps.

Runa flings open the front door. “Hurry!”

We barely take the time to hang our coats inside before racing to the big bedroom. All of my other siblings are already gathered around the large canopied bed. I can’t even see Mother with such a crowd around her.

“She wants to talk to you alone.” My stepfather’s fair brows draw together. The warning in his piercing eyes tells me not to take up too much of her remaining time.

If it were up to him, I wouldn’t even get to say goodbye to my own mother.

He gathers my siblings, and for a rare moment I get her all to myself. I hurry to Mother’s side and take her hands in mine. “I’m here, Mama.”

I haven’t called her that since I was a little girl—and that’s how I feel suddenly. A lump forms in my throat, and tears sting my eyes. I’ve pushed all my worry and sadness aside since the day she turned ill, and now they threaten to overwhelm me.

My mother turns her head slowly. Her dull eyes light up when our gazes meet. “My precious Eira.”

“Mama.”

“My time has come, darling daughter.”

All I can do is shake my head. I want to tell her she’s wrong, mistaken. But we both know the truth.

“There’s something… I need to tell you. Secrets… I’ve been keeping.”

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