Hey, perfect timing, Ems.
I picked up a new hobby working in the prison kitchen.
See, it turns out that, uh, blueberry muffins
can calm even the most sociopathic heart.
I should have one.
First I lose Jack for telling the truth,
then I lose Charlotte for lying.
Then take a breather.
Especially since the guy on deck is not only a priest,
but practically the Mother Teresa of the Bronx.
Got a library card in lieu of Wi-Fi.
Every other takedown
had histories that read like rap sheets, but...
all signs point to Paul being a good man.
Well, my father was a better man.
Right. The gospel according to Emily--
- Sin unto others as you've had sinned unto you. - Right.
This time, I just--
I kinda think you're going too far.
If--if you cannot forgive Paul,
- how do you expect to be forgiven? - I don't.
Look, I have two months before the wedding,
which means I'm not pulling any punches.