Faraday shifts in his seat. Fidgeting, really, though he’d never admit as much. ]
I— I’m sorry.
[ He watches as she busies herself, wrestling with the words that crowd on his tongue. He’s got so many fucking questions, now – and considering how many he had before, that’s saying a goddamn lot.
But no, stick to the easy stuff. Yes, no, either, or. Whatever story Emma has to tell, it’s certainly a difficult one, one she’s kept close to the chest. Better for them both to pick away at it than trying to dump it out all at once.
So the easy question. (The hard question.) ]
Did Bogue…
[ he frowns to himself, shifts the crutches to rest against his opposite shoulder. ]
no subject
Faraday shifts in his seat. Fidgeting, really, though he’d never admit as much. ]
I— I’m sorry.
[ He watches as she busies herself, wrestling with the words that crowd on his tongue. He’s got so many fucking questions, now – and considering how many he had before, that’s saying a goddamn lot.
But no, stick to the easy stuff. Yes, no, either, or. Whatever story Emma has to tell, it’s certainly a difficult one, one she’s kept close to the chest. Better for them both to pick away at it than trying to dump it out all at once.
So the easy question. (The hard question.) ]
Did Bogue…
[ he frowns to himself, shifts the crutches to rest against his opposite shoulder. ]
He killed your husband?