[Lie, cheat, steal, murder. Funny the things people do for love, indeed.
She sets the letter aside for now, instead given something that must be of more interest by Alec; she had noted the way he was setting aside mere letters for... something else. Some information that she could only assume was his main purpose in being here.
She doesn't ask questions just yet, instead satisfied with leafing through the papers given to her. They're strictly professional, which meant they were strictly medical in this case -- records of Edward's slowly declining health, tracked with the fastidiousness of someone with a clear intent. And, it appeared as she continued to read, that intent was not to make the husband better, but rather lead to his ultimate decline.
There's something about the way it's all so... empirically handed that makes Emily feel sick to her stomach. These papers revealed a cold calculation that was almost casual in how eager the doctor was to take another man's life, simply to further his own agenda. Out of so-called love, or lust, or simply having something that didn't belong to him. It rubs her the wrong way, reminding her of when she was younger, when people were so quick to maim and murder all around her, just so they could use her and manipulate her.
She cannot hope to know of all the misdeeds that go on in this city; she isn't so naive to think that she can put a stop to it all. But this doesn't make her feel better about her ignorance, and in fact, it makes her feel like she still isn't doing enough. There's hardly anything in this world that makes her feel more frustrated.
Finally, Emily looks at Alec, anger in sharp eyes.]
This man is a murderer. I won't let him get away with this.
no subject
She sets the letter aside for now, instead given something that must be of more interest by Alec; she had noted the way he was setting aside mere letters for... something else. Some information that she could only assume was his main purpose in being here.
She doesn't ask questions just yet, instead satisfied with leafing through the papers given to her. They're strictly professional, which meant they were strictly medical in this case -- records of Edward's slowly declining health, tracked with the fastidiousness of someone with a clear intent. And, it appeared as she continued to read, that intent was not to make the husband better, but rather lead to his ultimate decline.
There's something about the way it's all so... empirically handed that makes Emily feel sick to her stomach. These papers revealed a cold calculation that was almost casual in how eager the doctor was to take another man's life, simply to further his own agenda. Out of so-called love, or lust, or simply having something that didn't belong to him. It rubs her the wrong way, reminding her of when she was younger, when people were so quick to maim and murder all around her, just so they could use her and manipulate her.
She cannot hope to know of all the misdeeds that go on in this city; she isn't so naive to think that she can put a stop to it all. But this doesn't make her feel better about her ignorance, and in fact, it makes her feel like she still isn't doing enough. There's hardly anything in this world that makes her feel more frustrated.
Finally, Emily looks at Alec, anger in sharp eyes.]
This man is a murderer. I won't let him get away with this.