perhaps   he’d   sensed   her   sobriety,   february   crept   around   the   corner,   and   no  matter   how   deep   in   her   work   she   buried   herself,   the   date   approached   no   slower.   miles   edgeworth   was   not   a   man   of   sympathy,   he   doubted   himself   over   other’s   personal   trifles.   but,   ema   knew   he   worried   over   her.   —-    getting   older   and   more   sentimental.   she   hoped   he   wouldn’t   start   losing   sleep   over   her,   the   old   sap.

             the   detective   let   herself   in   to   the   chief   prosecutor’s   office,    she   had   her   own   key,   she   liked   to   sit   in  one   of   his   chairs   when   he   was   away,   and   reflect   on   more   serious   topics.

                                            ‘   —-    thanks.   ‘