She knows the truth, and she saw it walk away free from the courtroom, unrepentant and without remorse for the death of her collaborator. And so despite her loss, despite the bitterness of it all, here Mia is again, looking for clues she knows aren't there.
She doesn't expect to encounter anyone else here, and the snow dampens the sound of others. It's only when Mia approaches the bridge herself, hands shoved deep in her pockets and eyes on the snow despite knowing it's buried any last weak evidence there might be, that Mia notices she isn't alone. Perhaps she should be frightened by that, but it's the figure's posture that strikes her first; contemplative and down. It bothers her before she even knows who it is.
"Excuse me?" she calls through the snow, approaching slowly as she gets a better look, afraid she might spur whoever on into whatever she might be afraid they're doing. But the closer she gets, the more recognisable that person is, and Mia's brow furrows.
no subject
She knows the truth, and she saw it walk away free from the courtroom, unrepentant and without remorse for the death of her collaborator. And so despite her loss, despite the bitterness of it all, here Mia is again, looking for clues she knows aren't there.
She doesn't expect to encounter anyone else here, and the snow dampens the sound of others. It's only when Mia approaches the bridge herself, hands shoved deep in her pockets and eyes on the snow despite knowing it's buried any last weak evidence there might be, that Mia notices she isn't alone. Perhaps she should be frightened by that, but it's the figure's posture that strikes her first; contemplative and down. It bothers her before she even knows who it is.
"Excuse me?" she calls through the snow, approaching slowly as she gets a better look, afraid she might spur whoever on into whatever she might be afraid they're doing. But the closer she gets, the more recognisable that person is, and Mia's brow furrows.
"Pros.... Prosecutor Edgeworth?"