Noting the boy's obvious disinterest for the for the contents of his refrigerator, Emery closed the door with the slight ghost of a frown. At least he could say he tried, right? He pushed his fists into the depths of his pockets and strolled back casually in the direction of the couch.
It wasn't until he heard Trenton's quick testimony that he stopped himself in the middle of his stride. His brows nearly flung themselves off of his forehead in concern. "I beg- You were stabbed? But- Well, did you go to a hospital? Were you treated?" He found it a little - on the contrary, he found it extremely - unlikely that the stabbing caused him crucial damage. If so, Emery didn't think that Trenton would be settled on his couch then.