Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“I look forward to working with you, Gage,” she said cheerfully. “Call me Keira.”
Five specialists, all for him. It was almost too much attention. But it also made him grateful to Jo, who seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being, just as she said.
“How long does it take to learn Braille?” he asked, already overwhelmed.
He’d failed miserably at the two languages he’d tried to learn in high school, German and Spanish, which were supposed to be two of the easiest. He wasn’t in the mindset of failing the one that could improve his life.
“Most adults take about six months to a year to become fluent,” Keira said. “Writing it usually comes a little later.”
Gage’s shoulders dipped—a year.
“But,” she continued. “That’s for the average learner. Your tactile sensitivity is exceptional and well above baseline. And your memory retention is—no exaggeration—off the charts. With the strategies I use and the way your brain is already overcompensating, I expect you’ll be reading independently in eight to ten weeks.”
Gage blinked. “That fast?”
“That fast,” she confirmed. He could hear the smile in her voice. “Fluency will improve over time, but you won’t be helpless or dependent. You’ll read labels, messages, and notes. You’ll move through the world without waiting on someone else to describe it for you.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said. “I can do eight weeks.”
Dr. Rockwell took back over, “We’ll run a few basic assessments. Nothing invasive. No needles. No sedation. We’re not here to take anything from you.”
Gage flinched anyway, out of reflex.
“Nah, he don’t need no tests,” Roz butted in.
“Mateo,” Dr. Rockwell said, steel tinging her gentle tone, “Gage needs to reclaim his life, and knowledge of his abilities is a part of that.”
Gage could feel his friend vibrating with the urge to argue.
Dr. Rockwell softened. “Gage. Face me, please.”
He turned toward her voice.
“I know you don’t trust us,” she said quietly. “But I want you to hear and believe this. Nobody in this facility…in this entire program, is allowed to experiment. Not on you….not on anyone. We treat, we rehabilitate, we train. That’s it. If one of the Raven’s ask for more enhancement, only then, do we provide it.”
Gage could hear Dr. Rockwell gritting her teeth.
“And stoking fear in him, Mateo, is not helpful.”
Roz still didn’t let him go.
“Valor came to see me last night,” she added. “He told me, very politely, that if anyone under my direction ever violated your consent, he would make me disappear so thoroughly that my name would become a rumor.”
Gage let out a small, disbelieving huff.
“It’s fine, Roz. You can go, Corvo’s waiting on you. I’ll be okay here.”
“If you’re sure,” Roz muttered.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said, meaning it.
Dr. Blackwell waited for Roz to leave before she continued, “So, today is simple. We’ll check your pupillary responses, eye surfaces, inflammation markers, and intraocular pressure. We’ll do some retinal and optical imaging after that. And last, we’ll test your balance and spatial mapping, auditory localization, and your reaction times…the cool stuff. Okay?”
He nodded.
Dr. Rockwell gave some instructions to her team as she linked his arm inside hers.
“Let’s get started.”
The tests were as easy as she promised.
No restraints. No hidden syringes.
Just machines that hummed, clicked, recorded, and physicians who asked permission each time before touching him.
When they were done, Dr. Rockwell explained her findings.
“Your ocular damage is consistent with chemical pressure trauma, the surfaces are dry and aggravated and your optic pathways are angry.”
“But your brain is offsetting fast. Remarkably fast. Your enhancement profile is”—Keira gasped—“off the charts.”
Gage let out a slow breath. “So what does all that mean?”
“It means you’ll need therapy and training. And that starts with orientation and mobility.”
Before he asked what that consisted of—Gage sensed him.
He inhaled and stilled at the presence easing closer.
Potent masculinity with a trace of something satisfying clinging to him.
Gage turned his face toward the shift in his air.
Someone new was standing behind him, someone that hadn’t been introduced yet.
“Hello, Gage.”
The man’s voice was peaceful. Not flirtatious. Not fake. Just…soothing.
“I’m Adrian Shaw,” he said. “Your orientation and mobility specialist. I’m the one who’s gonna’ teach you a ton of tricks that’ll make your life easier. Meaning, you and I will be spending a lot of time together.”
When he took his hand in his, Gage liked that his grip was confident without being controlling. His skin was smooth and warm, and his voice…his voice had a sexy bass to it that Gage didn’t realize he appreciated.
Maybe because it reminded him of someone.
“I promise I’m not going to bore you by keeping you in a classroom for hours a day,” he said. “You’ll learn while you live. Taking back your independence in real time.”
Gage smiled. “That sounds…fine.”
“Good,” Adrian said, with the smile in his voice. “Because class starts right now, and for our first lesson, we’re going on a field trip.”
“I hope it ain’t the planetarium. That bored me to death in school.” Gage’s mouth twitched. “The only fun part was Giselle Tucker putting her hand between my legs.”