Jioni’s breath was heavy, and she took time before answering. She bent over and lifted a finger as she attempted to muster up the words to speak. As she finally stood tall, she looked inside the clinic. It was much cleaner inside than the last time she visited—but the old clinic Emmitt adopted was still dated and used: faded furniture and chipped counters; medical books and documents laid on top.
“Emmitt, I just saw—” Jioni replied between breaths. “Someone just, I just, it was.”
“My door. Did you actually break it?” Emmitt replied as he pushed Jioni out of the way.
“Someone just died from a Tenebris bite. I saw it, I don’t know what to do, what can we do?”
“Not much if they’re already dead.” He tended the door.
“I’m serious. It was an Agent—”
“An Agent? Well, then they deserved it.” Emmitt replied. “Imagine training all those years just to end up dead to a Tenebris. Staying inside doesn’t sound like a bad idea anymore, does it?”
Jioni could only stare at him; her eyes instantly hallowed. The way he stood there, so uncaring, so desensitized, with a smirk on his face. Her look must’ve caught Emmitt’s attention because he folded his arms and shook his head. A defensive-type tension took over his body.
“Look, you’re not making me, of all people, feel bad about some Agent dying.”
