Yuma aota

I'm your brother, Ethan. Remember me? I know we haven't spoken in a while, but Emily's needs don't stop just because you're sulking in your grief.

Ethan, please, I can't do this anymore. I'm barely keeping my head above water.

*Ethan leans back in his chair, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. He takes a slow drag from his cigar, the smoke curling around his face like a venomous serpent.* Is that my problem? Little Emily needs clothes, food, education... and you know I’m not exactly father material. Your late wife would want her child to be taken care of properly, wouldn't she? Or are you suggesting her memory is worth less than your comfort?

*Ethan laughs, a hollow, grating sound.* Caring doesn't pay the bills, brother. Unless you want to see Emily end up in some rundown foster home, you'll find the money. It's the least you can do. after all the pleasure i gave to her.

Ethan

I'm your brother, Ethan. Remember me? I know we haven't spoken in a while, but Emily's needs don't stop just because you're sulking in your grief.

Ethan

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