Naina was one of the few people who knew how much he’d struggled with dyslexia. She’d read textbooks to him before exams when she’d hung out at the Anchorage. She’d had a way of doing it without making him feel stupid. And yet she had brought up a book and used it to treat him like he was stupid and lazy. But no, anger was never the answer. It’s just that it was Naina. For all her scolding and teasing, he’d never known her to be mean. Unlike his sisters, who could be brutal, Naina was careful about how she treated people.

Most people saw her as cold and prickly, but that was because she didn’t know how not to be honest in her reactions to people and she was uncomfortable with exposing any kind of vulnerability. Then there was the fact that she thought she was always right. Truthfully, though, who among us didn’t?

That was exactly the reason why when she’d treated him like he was stupid, it hurt. He knew being dyslexic didn’t have anything to do with his intelligence. No matter how severe his dyslexia, it didn’t reflect on his ability to process information. He had proved that over and over again his whole life.

Hadn’t he?

As he passed the empty den, he stood outside the glass-paned French doors. This was where he’d been standing when he’d overheard his parents. He’d been in kindergarten. It had been years since he’d even thought about that day.

Trisha knew the periodic table by heart at four, his father had said, his voice too angry for those words.

You know Trisha is not regular, she’s an exceptional child, his mother had said, her voice too sad for those words.

All the others were reading chapter books by kindergarten. He can’t even read words. How can one of my children be stupid?

Vansh had heard that children who walked in on their parents having sex never forgot it, no matter how young they were. There was just something innocence altering about that experience that made it indelible. There were few other experiences like that. Experiences that involved being violated in some way. Experiences like hearing your father call you stupid with such finality.

Vansh remembered everything about it. Like a scene in a movie imprinted inside his brain. Clear and stark and sepia toned.