“Emmitt, he wasn’t just an Agent. He was somebody. Someone’s brother maybe, someone’s friend—”
“That’s Doc to you,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t go by Emmitt. Call me Doc.” He corrected.
Jioni stood baffled. She studied his expression and couldn’t tell if he was serious or not: he was unreadable, then he grinned.
Jioni couldn’t help but scoff.
“I’m not calling you ‘Doc’ until I see a credential.”
Emmitt stopped tending to the door. “Ah, but yet you still need my medical expertise on something, I assume? You didn’t just come by to nearly break my door and tell me some Agent died.”
“Yeah, ok. I need your help.” Jioni said. “Warning you ahead of time, what I’m about to show you is kinda gross.”
