Page 87 of The Secret Keeper's Daughter

“It’s complicated.”

“Of course it is. Are you going to tell me about it?”

“Right now?” He throws me an exasperated glance.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a lot, and we’re both tired and hungry.”

“Then tell me after we eat.”

“Okay.”

I give him a double-take. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

A little energy returns to me with that bit of news. “I appreciate it.”

“It isn’t like I’m trying to keep anything from you. I hope you believe me. I’m having a really hard time navigating between having spent so much time being forced to keep all this supernatural stuff from you and now being able to tell you everything. I don’t know when to tell you what, and obviously I haven’t made good decisions on that front.”

I take his hand and squeeze it. “Don’t blame yourself. Our parents did this to us—my mother mostly, as much as it pains me to say it.”

“She thought it was for your best and wanted to protect you. The?—”

“I don’t want to think about it. Let’s just focus on getting some food then decide on our next move from there.”

“Okay, sure.”

Silence settles between us, which is just as well because once we leave the educational district, loud music sounds from somewhere. There must be a concert every night around here. We pass through an area with games and little fae kids running around, shrieking and having fun.

That probably could’ve been my childhood if I hadn’t been raised on a farm with a tyrant who hated me. Why did my mother choosehimof all people? Because of his wealth? What I wouldn’t give to ask her that and a million other questions.

When we reach Vivvi’s district, things are quieter but still active. A lot of people fill the streets, all carrying shopping bags.

Harek’s stomach rumbles when the apartment building comes into sight.

I nudge him. “Clearly I’m not the only hungry one.”

He gives me a crooked smile, which makes my heart flutter. “I never said you were.”

“Hopefully she has a table full of food because we’ll both—” I stop short, unable to believe my eyes.

A man with massive dreadlocks and a large sword strapped around him just crossed our path, but it isn’t his hair that makes me forget what I was saying to Harek. This man has my eyes, my nose, and even my mouth nestled in his full beard. Every feature that made me stand out from the people in Skoro is on his face.

The same jolt of recognition crosses his face. He skids to a stop and stares at me with the same bewilderment I feel. It’s only then I realize it isn’t just his hair that is massive—everything about him is. He’s tall, broad, and muscular.

I’m aware of Harek speaking, but it sounds like he’s talking into water. All my focus is on this man. He has scars all over, like he’s fought for his life hundreds of times. His dreads are thesame color black as my hair, but his are streaked with white. His skin is darker, more worn, but otherwise I could be looking into a portal at a future, masculine version of myself.

This man is my father.

Chapter

Thirty

“Eira!”Harek tugs at my arm. “Let’sgo.”

My feet are cemented to the ground. I can’t stop looking at my father, can’t help but drink in his sight. Literally everything that has made me different from everyone else in my life is on this man. He’s my father—there’s no other explanation.

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