My wife's takin' this real hard. I mean, we all are, but damn. Annabeth isn't even really related, not like flesh and blood, but you'd never fucking know if you saw her the way she is now. I've never seen the girl this shook up, not even when Janey, her mother, died. I don't know what the hell to do right now; I got eyes and ears all over this town, all of 'em comin' up blind and deaf. The cops are hitting walls at every turn, slammin' drunks and assholes and nobodies alike for nothing but a buncha useless scraps. They've got my friends in there, family even, and not a fucking one of them would've had anything to do with this shit.
I feel fucking numb, like I'm in a haze, ya know? Sorta like being drunk, only none of the high and all of the hangover when you're finally sober. I talked to Dave about it, and that seemed to help a little. Almost funny, how all it took to reconnect and make friends with the guy was my daughter's murder. Celeste, Dave's wife, looked off, though; twitchy, sorta nervous-like? I dunno, maybe it's just me; the two of 'em have been great the last few days, helpin' out with the arrangements and such. Celeste is great at keepin' Annabeth's mind offa things, letting her take a fucking break once in a while. I think that's kind of the best thing for her right now, 'least until we hear more on the case.
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