Stutter (Rayne-Moore University Duet #2)

Raven.

I stare at Ada Howell, my speech-language pathologist, the one I’ve been seeing for the past few weeks because as soon as he could, Damon pulled so many owed favors and got me in to see a neurologist. And they declared I had a slight brain contusion from four years ago that went undetected because it was written off as a concussion, which then lead me to Dr. Harriet Howell, who diagnosed me with weak vocal cords and that’s how I ended up sitting in front of her wife, Ada – my speech therapist.

My vocal cords don’t feel weak – they feel strained. Because she’s making me read a children’s book out loud. I grimace with each stammer, but Mrs. Howell simply nods and smiles.

I have to think about big words before I say them. I’m twenty-four and stammering like a kindergartener reading Dr. Suess to a woman in her late thirties.