Emma insists I read about one of every 20 books she reads. (For background knowledge, she set her summer reading goal at 200 books.) I usually try to pick them up if she's serious about it (i.e. says so more than once, for example). And given that my to-read shelf is pretty dry because I'm quarantined, I was happy to try Eclipse.
And then I spent the whole book (mostly read after she was in bed for the evening) wondering what she'd liked about it.
Set in the early 1950s in Ohio, a young Hungarian boy and his immigrant parents must house new immigrant family members. It's a pretty painful read -- the boy's older cousin and neighbor kids beat him up and steal from him, his grandfather (back in Hungary) has gone missing, his only friend is a tolerant librarian who teaches him about the Underground Railroad. (Hmm, some parallels, maybe?)
It was a touching, painful book. And Emma loved it. So did I.