Emma stares dumbfounded as she listens to the recording.  She stares at the painted woman, her jaw slack.  This recording could be fake..but why the hell would Fanya go through all that trouble.  The convicts hands start to shake...she was 'free'.  Sure she was still a con, could be taken in to NCR at any time - but this was a load off her mind.<span style="color: blue">"What...What did you do to them?"</span>Shes' shaking as she walks towards the desk, eyeing Fanya with some mix of Awe and unrivaled lust.  Not only did Fanya -help- her..she single handedly solved a large chunk of her current problem.<br/><br/>Emmas trembling hands reach out to fumble with a pen on Fanyas desk, she swallows and grins, reaching over the desk to push the button once more.  She sits on the side of Fanyas desk, listening to the recording play again.  She looks to Fanya, her eyes are sincere, her brow furrowed.<span style="color: blue">"I..." </span>SHe shakes her head,<span style="color: blue"> "Thankyou." </span>she stares at the painted woman.<br/><br/>This was strange. She'd  not been free from both jail and the gangers her entire adult life. She didn't quite know how to handle it. There was still the issue of NCR,  but...maybe they assumed -she- was with the gangers when they perished? Emma doesn' t assume anything, but she can hope.  Emma blinks and continues to stare , unsure of what to say.<br/>There is silence for a long time...<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">"Did they suffer? I....." </span>she shakes her head. It shouldn't have mattered, but it did. She won't push the issue however.<span style="color: blue">"Thankyou." </span>She repeats, her words are heart felt and sincere, and she feels like an ass.  She raises from sitting on the edge of Fanyas desk, and in a sort of 'trance' makes her way to the couch. She plops down, her head rolled back , she stares up to the ceiling, not saying a word.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>