Gabriel sat in his room. Crying. Quietly. Trying to hide. Trying not to let anyone see.

But Dante heard. Opened the door. Found his youngest son. Nine years old. Devastated. Broken.

"Hey. What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I'm stupid. I'm broken. I can't read like everyone else. Can't write. Can't do school. I'm. I'm the dumb one. The one who can't keep up. The failure."

Dante's heart shattered. His son. Believing he was less. Believing he was broken. Believing a learning difference meant deficiency.

"No. Stop. You're not stupid. You're not broken. You're not a failure. You have dyslexia. That's not stupidity. That's just. Different wiring. Different processing. Different learning....