Page 43 of Shelter (The Wanderers 4)

“Not all of us,” Braylon added softly, stroking Haley’s hair again.

Rush squeezed her hand again. “True.”

Haley smiled even though none of them could see her. “Could have been worse. My parents knew I could easily be taken from them at any time. They wanted me to be as educated as possible. They taught me to read by the time I was three. Even though I had no education after I was taken at age six and haven’t been handed a book since then, I can still read and I know basic math.”

Rush lowered their entwined hands from his cheek to his chest, pressing her palm against his heart. “I can’t imagine not reading for fourteen years. The way The Republic insists on keeping women uneducated is barbaric.”

She flattened her hand against his chest. “Of all the things I’ve missed out on in my life, that one hurts the most. Sometimes I’ve wished I had no idea how to read so I wouldn’t know what I was missing. I would stare at the volumes of books in the Hanson library and drool. They just sat there. It seemed like no one ever touched them, while I wanted to devour all of them.”

Bray cupped her face and stroked his thumb over her lips. “We’ll get you all the books we can find, baby. I promise you’ll never run out of reading material again in your life.”

She pursed her lips, trying not to cry.

“He’s right,” Riggs added. “I had no idea you wanted books so badly or I would have snuck them into your room and hidden them under your mattress.”

“It would have been too dangerous,” she pointed out.

Storm squeezed her thigh. “I was always on guard. We could have had a signal or something to let you know to hide it.”

Haley drew in a breath. “I’m not sure how advanced my reading skills are anyway. I might not be quite up to par for reading just anything.”

Rush threaded his fingers between hers over his heart. “There are thousands of books in the bunker where we’re going. You will never run out. I promise. And we can take turns helping you improve your reading skills. You’ll be reading like a sponge in no time.”

“That sounds like heaven,” she murmured. Was it truly possible that they might get away with this and make it to a safe haven? She refused to let herself hope that far out. One hour at a time. First, they needed to get to the next stop and then the next, and so on. Freedom might taste a bit stronger on her tongue with every passing hour, but so far, it was not a flavor she recognized.

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