The Secret Keeper by Kate Morton
“Laurel was grateful that Rose had been able to meet her with the keys, but her head was buzzing with the list of what she knew and what she still needed to find out about her mother’s past, and she’d been eager to get inside and put her thoughts in order. Watching Rose’s car disappear down the driveway had filled her with a sense of enormous anticipation. It had seemed to mark the beginning of something. She was here at last; she’d done it, left her life in London in order to get to the bottom of her family’s great secret.” (p. 182)
I almost abandoned this book, but it’s not Kate Morton’s fault. I’ve had an exceedingly difficult time reading this month, almost writing a post entitled “The Queen of Two-Thirds Through” since that seems to be my status on all the books I’ve begun. (Don’t worry, Tom, finishing Little Women is next.)
This novel did not grab me at first. “Fine,” I thought, “Laurel wants to discover her family’s secret. She wants to know why her mother stabbed a man with the beribboned birthday knife in 1961, unaware that Laurel was watching from high in a treehouse.” Frankly, I could have cared less within the first fifty pages of the book.
Then, Kate Morton took me deep within the family’s past by interweaving the events of 2011 with what happened during WWII in 1941, and I was caught.
The more I read, the more interested I became. The conclusion is the best of all, a truly satisfying end which unlike many “thrillers” (here think Gone Girl) doesn’t make the reader feel jerked around by the author’s manipulation.
With that, I close the cover on the second book I’ve read in 2013. It’s written with a plot I enjoyed very much.
(Thanks to Atria books for sending me The Secret Keeper for review.)