Free The Preacher by Camilla Läckberg

No siblings were more unlike than she and Jacob; she was convinced of that. It was so damned unfair that he was their parents’ favourite, always praised to the skies, while he did nothing but pick at her. Was it her fault that she had arrived unplanned, long after they had decided to leave their baby-rearing years behind? Or that Jacob’s illness so many years before she was born had made them unwilling to have another child? Naturally she understood the seriousness of the fact that he almost died, but why did she have to take the blame for it? She wasn’t the one who had made him sick.
    All the coddling they had showered on Jacob had just continued on, even after he had completely recovered. It was as if their parents regarded each day of his life as a gift from God, while her life caused them only trouble and difficulty. And then there was the relationship between Grandfather and Jacob. She certainly understood that they had a special bond, after what Grandfather had done for Jacob, but that shouldn’t mean that there wasn’t any room for his other grandchildren. Of course, Grandfather had died before she was born, so she never had to face his indifference, but she knew from Stefan that he and Robert had landed in Grandfather’s disfavour and they saw all the attention focused on their cousin Jacob. Surely the same thing would have happened to her if Grandfather were still alive.
    The injustice of it all made hot tears well up in her eyes, but Linda forced them back as she had so many times before. She did not intend to give Jacob the satisfaction of seeing her tears or allow him another opportunity to act as saviour of the world. She knew that his fingers itched to get her life onto the right path, but she would rather die than be a doormat like him. Nice girls might get to Heaven, but she intended to go much, much farther than that. She would rather come down to earth with a crash of thunder than live her life a milksop like her big brother, secure as he was that everyone loved him.
    ‘Do you have any plans today? I could use a little help around the house,’ said Marita.
    She was buttering several slices of bread for the children as she directed her question to Linda. She was a motherly woman, slightly overweight and with a plain face. Linda had always thought that Jacob could have done better. An image of her brother and her sister-in-law in bed popped into her mind. She was sure that they did it dutifully once a month, with the lights off and her sister-in-law wearing some concealing, ankle-length nightgown. The image made her giggle, and the others gave her a quizzical look.
    ‘Hey, Marita asked you a question. Can you help her around the house today? This isn’t a boarding-house, you know.’
    ‘All right, all right, I heard her the first time. You don’t have to nag. And no, I can’t help out today. I have to …’ She searched for a good excuse. ‘I have to check on Scirocco. He was limping a little yesterday.’
    Her excuse was received with sceptical looks, and Linda put on her most contentious expression, ready for a fight. But to her astonishment no one felt like challenging her today, despite the obvious lie. The victory – and yet another day of loafing – was hers.

    The desire to go outside and stand in the rain, with his face turned up to the sky and the water streaming over him, was irresistible. But there were certain things that an adult could not permit himself, especially if he was at work, and Martin had to restrain his childish impulse. But it was wonderful. All the oppressive heat that had held them captive the past two months was flushed away in one good downpour. Through the open window he could smell the rain in his nostrils. Rain came splashing onto the part of his desk closest to the window, but he had moved all the papers so it didn’t matter. It was worth it to be able to smell the cool air.
    Patrik had called in to say that he’d overslept, so Martin had been the first