Dr. Connelly leaned against the adjustable table next to the bed, Brett’s chart held in both his hands. “It’s called expressive aphasia. It’s caused by an injury to the area of the brain that controls verbal communication.”
Zoe’s stomach grew hollow with fear. Her gaze shifted to her mother. Her features looked wooden with control.
Brett’s voice, still weak, held a taut note, “So that’s why I feel as though the word is right there on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t get it to come.”
“That’s very common with head injuries,” Dr. Connelly said with a nod.
“Mom was showing me pictures and I couldn’t remember--”His expression grew tense as he concentrated on getting the right word to come out. “C-Cat--”
“Katie Beth,” Clara supplied the name for him.
Brett shot her a frown. “Yeah.”
“Who is Katie Beth, Brett?” Dr. Connelly asked.
“My niece.”
“You know who she is, but you can’t say her name when you look at her picture.”
“No, I couldn’t get the word to come to my mind.”
Dr. Connelly nodded. He looked down at the chart he held. “You don’t seem to have trouble identifying the people in this room.”
“No.”
The doctors gray brows drew together. “Who’s the woman standing next to your bed?”
“My mom, Clara.”
“And this young lady.” Connelly pointed with the chart.
“My sister, Zoe.”
“And the fellow next to her?”
“Lieutenant Yazzie, Hawk, my commanding officer.”
“You have all these people here supporting you, son. You’re not alone in this.”
“I’m going to contact the head of our speech pathology here on staff. As soon as we’ve finished our tests, they can do their own evaluation and get you started.”
Brett nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“Your brain has sustained a trauma, Brett. I’ve already talked to you about the extent of that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re a living miracle. You woke up.”
“Yes, sir, I know that.”
“It’s going to be tough,” Connelly continued. “You’ve done tough before with your SEAL training.”
Brett’s jaw tightened and Zoe read his fear behind the careful blankness of his expression.
“As long as you go at it with as much determination as you did that, there’s a good chance, you’ll overcome this.”
“I hope so, sir.”
Zoe heard doubt in the word hope and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You will, Brett.”
“We’ll have more information in a few days and know better how to progress from there.”
As soon as Dr. Connelly left the room, a taut silence followed.
“Guys, I think I’d like some time alone for a little while,” Brett said.
Zoe’s gaze met her mother’s over Brett’s head.
“All right, sweetheart.” Clara bent to kiss Brett’s cheek and his arms went around her.
“Love you, Mom.”
“I love you too.” Her eyes grew glazed with tears as she straightened, but she quickly blinked them back to offer him a smile. She left the room.
Zoe hugged him hard and met his blue gaze head on. She ran a comforting hand over his fine halo of hair that stuck straight up in the air. He looked so much like he had as a little boy with his hair cut so short. He was still her big brother, but she suddenly realized their roles had reversed. “I know this is a blow, but you’ll be fine.”
“Sure, Sis.”
“Hawk, I need to speak to you privately for a minute,” Brett said