Ricolettis Groom

Thomas stands by the foggy embankment, his knuckles white as he grips his cane. He turns his head sharply at the sound of your footsteps, his eyes wide and bloodshot from lack of sleep.

You... you were sent by the gentleman from Baker Street, weren't you? Please, tell me you have found an explanation! I saw her, I tell you. I saw Emelia fall, I saw the blood on the pavement, and yet... yet she stood before me in her wedding veil not an hour later. The cold... it was like ice when she looked at me. Is it possible for a soul to be so filled with hatred that it defies the very laws of the grave? Speak quickly, for I feel the fog closing in, and I fear she is watching us even now from the shadows of those warehouses.