My Sunshine Read Online Free PDF

offered her a job.
    â€œAre you able to read, Laura?”
    â€œOn a good day.” She shrugged, the gesture implying that there were worse things. “About a third-grade level the last time I was tested.”
    He tugged on his earlobe. “And on a bad day?”
    â€œThe letters jump around.” She pushed at her hair again, a gesture he was coming to suspect was a nervous habit. “My per-periph—” She broke off and lifted her hands in defeat.
    â€œYour peripheral vision?” he supplied.
    She nodded. “It’s messed up, worse some days than others. I can still read the words in the middle—if they’re short.”
    Isaiah jotted a note on a Post-It pad, ripped off the top sheet, and handed it to her. “Can you read that?”
    She stared down at the writing for a full two seconds. “This isn’t a good day,” she said with an airylaugh that was just a little shaky. “When I get nervous, it’s always worse.”
    A strange, achy sensation filled Isaiah’s throat. Being tested on her reading ability obviously unsettled her. “It’s not a pass-or-fail thing. Just take your time. Give it your best shot.”
    Her delicate brows scrunched together over the bridge of her nose. “You spelled out the numbers.”
    â€œWe do that here to avoid mistakes. I had a one mistaken for a seven once. Luckily the result wasn’t disastrous. Now it’s our policy to write the number and also spell it out.”
    She looked relieved. “That’s good. That you spell them out, I mean. Numbers are tricky for me. Sometimes I see them upside down or backward.” She hunched over the note, frowned again, and haltingly read the words aloud. “Three—cups—dry—food, two—” She broke off and looked up. “There’s an X all by itself.”
    â€œIt’s an abbreviation for ‘times,’ in this case, two times daily. I use it a lot in chart instructions.”
    â€œOh.” She nodded. “Two times daily. I see.”
    She laid the paper on the desk and smoothed the tacky edge with trembling fingertips. Watching her, Isaiah found himself wanting to pat her hand. “You managed that very nicely. Can you remember from now on what an X stands for?”
    â€œI think so.”
    â€œDo you have difficulty counting?”
    â€œI lose track without my beans.”
    He’d been almost convinced that she could do the work. Now she’d thrown him a curveball. “Without your what? ”
    â€œBeans.” She fished in a pocket of her coat and held out her hand. Several dried kidney beans rested on her outstretched palm. “It’s—a trick—from rehab. I carry twenty with me. That way, when I have to count, I don’t lose track.”
    â€œWhat if you have to count to over twenty?”
    She put the beans back in her pocket. “I’m in deep doo-doo.”
    He gave a startled laugh, pleased on the one hand that she could joke about it, but sad for her as well. “What did you do for a living before your accident, Laura? My mom couldn’t recall.”
    She puffed air into her cheeks. “Why does that matter? I can’t do it now.”
    Isaiah acknowledged the point with a nod. “True, and it doesn’t really matter. I’m just curious.”
    â€œI, um, did—studies—before they built roads.” She pressed her lips together and swallowed. “To see if traffic would hurt the plants and ani-mals.” She gestured helplessly again. Her eyes darkened with frustration. “I was an env-envi—” She went back to clasping her hands, the tendons in her neck growing distended as she struggled to speak. Finally she released a taut breath, squeezed her eyes closed, and shook her head.
    Isaiah realized that he was leaning forward in the chair, his muscles knotted, his teeth clenched. God. He wanted to help her get the words