Stina caught the excitement spreading like wildfire amongst the passengers. The Friedeburg had anchored in Moreton Bay and the long and uneventful voyage was finally over. It was 1872 and she couldn’t wait to go ashore, to feel the earth solid under her feet and to run forever without bumping into someone. To feel her hair flying out behind her and to put her arms around something sure and steadfast like a tree. To have a moment of quiet and uninterrupted solitude, to hear birdsong and nobody calling her name or requiring her help.
Her new home would be in Australia, already so different from everything she’d left behind in Sweden. Life still wouldn’t be perfect, her stepmother would see to that, but soon Stina would be able to find a job and leave home. Through her fourteen-year-old eyes, the world was filled with possibilities just waiting for her to discover…