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He kept his gaze locked on the floor as he swung his pack onto his shoulder and headed out.

Gabe’s office smelled like coffee and his desk had framed photos of him and his fiancée. The pretty blonde was smiling from the frame, and Wyatt dragged his stare away as he took a seat.

The chief training officer leaned back in his chair, studying Wyatt as if he had all the time in the world and intended to use it. He watched him long enough that his neck grew hot.

“How long have you been hiding your dyslexia?”

The question struck like a fist. Wyatt’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Gabe’s stare was direct. “My best friend in high school had it. I watched him do exactly what you’re doing for two years before anybody figured it out. The way you hold the book—too far, then too close, like you’re trying to make the letters sit still. The way you never volunteer to read out loud but can recite it back to me word for word if you hear it.”

He gaped at him, his chest performing some complicated trick, tightening and sinking at the same time. “I don’t—” He stopped.

Dyslexia? He’d heard the word, of course. And he had a problem focusing his attention, and he always figured he was built for doing, not reading. But that wasn’t him. He’d never associated that word—dyslexia—with himself. Having a man he respected as much as Gabe use it in connection with him made him wonder whether it was true.

Gabe eyed him steadily. “How’d you make it this far without anybody catching it?”

“I can’t focus on the words,” he said at last.

Gabe gave a small nod. “Heard that before from my buddy.”

Wyatt’s mind spun. “Thought I was just stupid when it comes to books, honestly.”

Gabe didn’t flinch, nor did he offer pity. He just nodded once, as if Wyatt confirmed what he already suspected.

He leaned forward. “You’re not stupid. You’re one of the best damn trackers I’ve had come through that door, and I’ve had a lot of them. But you’re about to burn yourself into the ground trying to pass the written training. How are you getting through the testing?”

“I have an app on my phone. It reads the material to me, and I memorize it.”

“And the written responses on tests?”

“I memorize the letters in order and write them down.”

Gabe rocked back in his seat as if Wyatt had slapped him. “That’s a lot of extra work.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face but said nothing to that.

He tapped the desk. “Here’s the deal. You use earbuds during classroom hours. You sit in the back anyway—no one will notice. You take the written tests orally if that’s what gets you a fair shot.”

His head was spinning. Why would he give him this opportunity?

“And you’ll go up the mountain on the next op.”

Wyatt froze. “Up the mountain?”

“You earned it.”

Wyatt folded forward, elbows on his knees, and dropped his face into his hands. For three full heartbeats he couldn’t breathe. His throat worked with emotion he refused to show.

Out of one hundred candidates, he was one of thirty left standing. Out of those thirty, six were selected for the expedition.

And he was one of them.

When he straightened, he met Gabe’s stare. “What’s the catch?”

“Lose the attitude. That chip on your shoulder Reno keeps mentioning—it’s not going to serve you up on that mountain. Out there, you don’t get to fake it. You’ll need your team, and they need to trust you. White-knuckling it alone will only cost you or your teammates.”

Wyatt’s stare didn’t move off his. A lifetime of hiding his difficulties from the world weighed heavy on his shoulders, and suddenly, the load lightened just enough to breathe again.