“I can’t!” he shouted, devastated. “I’m illiterate, damn it! How do you expect me to admit that to them? How do you expect me to suffer their pity?”
Amanda had no answer. Locked into the pain in Jake’s eyes, she stumbled over her good intentions and her determination. How could she hurt this man? How could she-—?
“Jake?”
Both of them whirled at the sound. Fear slammed through Amanda, even knowing already what she’d find.
It was Lee, standing in the door to the kitchen, her eyes on her brother, wide, tear-swollen eyes. Stunned, desolate eyes.
“Jake?” she repeated in that little girl’s voice that suddenly shattered the rest of Amanda’s control.
Jake shuddered beside her. His body went rigid, his own eyes stark as death. “No,” he protested bleakly. “No.”
And Amanda saw exactly what he’d feared the most. She saw the impact the truth was having on his sister. Lee looked as if she’d just lost her moorings. Emotions as raw as an open wound warred in her: shock, grief, confusion. Amanda took a step toward the girl, trying to pull her away before she could hurt Jake with her dawning sense of betrayal, but it was too late. Before Amanda could move, Jake turned on his heel and ran out the door.
“Jake!” she yelled, running after him.
“He can’t read?” Lee demanded, her voice dissolving with the sudden, flooding tears. “Dear God, Amanda. He’s never been able to read?”
