“I’m not mad, Haven. Show me what you brought.”

She led him over to the dining room table. “As you know, I have dual degrees. One is in journalism, the other in special education. I spent some time working with students with learning disabilities.”

He stared down at the table. “So what is all this . . . stuff?”

She lifted her gaze to his. “It’s an assessment. And with your permission, I’d like to do an assessment on you. I’m not a professional, Trevor. Not even close to it. But I did plenty of these during my internship, and I know how to assess learning disabilities like dyslexia. I know you can read.”

Trevor sucked in a breath. “I can read, Haven. Sort of. I can’t read well. I get mixed up. It frustrates me.”

“Okay. So let me do this assessment and let’s see where you stand. I really think I can help you, or at least guide you to the right resources and people who can help you.”

He sat down at the table. She sat in the chair next to him and waited for him to gather his thoughts. The one thing she’d learned was patience. This had to come when he was ready.

Finally, he started. “My dad was illiterate. He couldn’t read at all. He worked as a laborer. My mom tried to help him, but she didn’t know about it until much later in their marriage, because he hid it from her. When she tried to help him, or encourage him to finish school, he got angry.” He looked out the door toward the deck. “He was always angry. At her, and at me. He’d lash out at us all the time.”

“Did he hit you?”

“No. It was always verbal. But it was loud and all the damn time.”

“You had no escape.”

Trevor shook his head. “I hung out there in the living room watching TV with my mom, listening to the old man rant and rave. And with every beer, he’d get louder and louder. He was just an unhappy son of a bitch, and took it out on us.

“She finally couldn’t take his outbursts and she left. It was rough for a while. She had to work two jobs to make ends meet until she met my stepdad. Then things got better.”

“Did you ever see him after that?”

“No. He didn’t want to be around me, I guess. Or whatever. I have no idea what happened to him. I can’t say I missed him all that much, and when my mom remarried, my stepdad was a much nicer guy. But then I realized I couldn’t read, and I felt like I was going to turn out just like my dad.”

Haven felt such sympathy for what Trevor had gone through. “Because you got frustrated and angry, too.”

“Yeah. So I hid it from everyone. I was determined not to turn out like my old man. I never wanted anyone to know. I could fake it pretty easy. And I had the charm thing going, you know? I was nice enough and I could read just enough to get by.”

“It must have been so frightening for you to try to hide this secret all these years. No one knew?”

“My brother did. He helped me out with homework. God, he’s so f**king smart. I’d have never made it without him. And my mom would try to help, but she didn’t know the extent of what was wrong with me. She’d already gone through so much with my dad. I didn’t want her to have to deal with my shit, too.”

She laid her hand over his. “Trevor. Nothing is wrong with you. If my guess is correct, your brain is just wired differently and you have to learn to use that difference in how you read and comprehend. There’s nothing wrong with you. Understand?”

He shrugged. “So what are these tests?”

“There are several evaluations of comprehension, along with family history, that’ll help me determine what might possibly be hindering your ability to read at an appropriate level.”

He got up, went into the kitchen, and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “Do you want one?”

“Sure.”

He handed one to her, then opened his and took a long swallow. “Okay, then. Let’s get started.”

TREVOR COULDN’T RECALL EVER TAKING MORE TESTS than the ones Haven had given him. First they’d gone over his history, including familial history, health history, and school history. He’d been honest with her—hell, more honest with her than he’d ever been with anyone before.

Then there’d been the testing. Reading comprehension, vocabulary, verbal reasoning and spelling, math, and several other tests. He was sure he’d failed them all, because that was what tests brought to mind. Sweat. Fear. Failure.

Tests had always equaled failure. But this time, he wasn’t going to be able to charm or bullshit his way out of them. He was as honest as he could be with his answers. And there were a lot of things he just couldn’t get through. But Haven was patient with him, and didn’t once look at him like he was stupid.