Beckett’s POV
I cut across the dining hall straight toward Elodie. She is just wiping milk from Callie’s mouth as I approach.
‘Hey,’ I murmur softly as I reach her table, keeping my voice gentle so as not to startle her.
Elodie looks up, blinking as if pulling herself out of a heavy fog. As Callie beams at me.
‘Beckett! Are you going to have breakfast with us?’ my daughter asks hopefully, ‘I brought Rupert with me.’
I smile down at the six year old fondly, ‘Rupert?’ I question.
‘My turtle’ Callie replies, pulling the wooden figure from the pocket of her shorts and holding it up.
I nod my understanding before turning back to Elodie who gives me a waery smile.
‘Hey, Beckett.’ She greets me quietly.
‘Hey’ I reply. I glace over at Callie again, who is now happily walking her turtle ac
