Billy’s POV
Ever since Celeste had come home from the hospital, I’d been staying at Jamie and Josh’s house.
The boys didn’t want her left alone while they were at the base, so I’d volunteered—or, more accurately, been assigned—to babysitting duty.
I didn’t mind.
If anything, I welcomed the opportunity.
It was the least I could do.
A few days before Celeste had been discharged, Josh and I had returned to the house to clean up the kitchen.
I thought I was prepared for what I’d see.
I wasn’t.
There was something profoundly different about seeing blood on a television screen or hearing about a shooting compared to standing in the place where it had happened.
My daughter’s blood had been on those tiles.
Her blood.
I had stood there with a mop in my hands, scrubbing away the physical
