Fated To Mate
I wasn't just a runaway; I was a missing piece of their machinery, and Ginny wasn't the type to let a piece just walk away.
The silence stretched until it felt too loud, pressing in on my ears. I needed to fill it with something, anything. If I’d had my notepad, it would’ve been easier. Words on paper didn’t hurt. Words out loud did.
So I forced myself to speak anyway, even though it felt like swallowing glass.
“I… I h-have… a… a ba… ba… bad st–stu–stutter,” I said slowly, carefully, praying I could get through a few sentences without breaking apart. “It h-hurts… to sp… speak.”
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