The speaker knows Eliza well enough to address her by her first name. That could be close knowledge or casual knowledge, depending on the setting. In some worlds, only the very closest of relationships allow the use of a first name; in others, the first name is the usual introduction at a party or bar. The speaker also knows enough of Eliza to believe Eliza has a secret. And the speaker has standing enough to command that Eliza share the secret.
We now know Eliza's name and that she may have a secret as well.
Secret is a strong word, and gains more strength in its position as the last word of the sentence. It means something is hidden – and "tell me" shows that someone wants to know it. That creates tension. We'd like to know the secret. What is it? Will Eliza tell? Why does the speaker want to know?
If knowledge is power, then Eliza's secret is her power, and the speaker is hoping to gain it. There is a conflict there – if Eliza wanted it known, it would not be a secret. Eliza and the speaker want different results.
In what situations do we hear someone say, "Tell me your secret?" Some of them are low-stakes: How did you make these cookies come out so well? Where do you buy your shoes? Some of them are high-stakes: Where did you hide the gold? Who is the traitor? Some of them carry emotional weight: Who kissed you? How did you get that bruise? From this sentence, we don't yet know what the impact of Eliza's secret may be. But because it starts a story, we expect it will matter for that story. There's no reason to tell a tale that starts with a secret if the secret doesn't have an impact. By starting with the secret, Priya Sharma is suggesting that what it is and what it means is the center of the story – the secret has importance and consequence. As readers of many stories, we understand that.
A secret, like a dead body, pulls us into a mystery. This sentence is a hook.
Graphic design by Ken Silbert