“Will the defendant please answer the question?” boomed the Judge’s voice.

Edgeworth merely shrugged his shoulders, his arms crossed. An inconspicuous bead of sweat formed upon his forehead.

“I can’t”, he replied, struggling to maintain his composure.

“Edgeworth…please. You have got to let it out, whatever it is that we need to know,” I said, stroking my spiky hair, a grim expression becoming present on my face.

“I – I plea the fifth,” he stammered. This sent the jury into a frenzy.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

“ORDER! I will have ORDER!” growled the Judge. “If the defendant cannot answer the question, then I will have no choice but to declare my verdict.”

“Edgeworth! Please!” I pleaded. “Why can’t you tell us where the letter is?

Edgeworth remained silent and avoided eye contact with everyone. He uncrossed his shaky arms and put his hand in his pocket. The court waited intently as he produced a picture from within his pants. Brandishing a fountain pen, he scrawls something on its backside. A single tear lands on its surface. He then carelessly tosses the picture over the stand and storms out of the courtroom.

“Bailiff! Seize him!” hollered the Judge. As officers capture Edgeworth in his escape and proceed to take him to the detention center, I hunch over my desk, burying my face in my hands.

“What could be so important that Edgeworth would protect it with his very life…” I thought to myself. The courtroom began to die down as people started to exit. Maya walked around the desk and picked up the picture that Edgeworth had thrown.

“Oh my God…Nick…LOOK!” she exclaimed in shock. She hands the picture to me, her other hand covering half of the horror that shown on her face. Instantly, I recognize a picture of myself – and the cutout where another person should have been. I flip the picture over. On the back is Edgeworth’s ornate manuscript: “I did it for her.”

That night, I barely got any sleep. I had so many conflicting thoughts…so many unanswered questions. Not to mention the utter grief that went along with not being able to defend my friend. Why? Why couldn’t he have just come clean? What was he hiding? What does the letter contain? Who is the girl in in the missing cutout from that picture of me that even I don’t recognize?

My stream of subconsciousness is interrupted by a gentle tap on my shoulder.

“Good morning, Mr. Nick!” exclaims Pearl with an award-winning expression.

“Hello, Pearly” I say as I rub my eyes. “What time is it?”

“Time to get up! You have a visitor!” she says joyfully. I look rather stern.

“What do you mean – who?” I inquire.

“They called earlier this morning, said it was urgent. I told them to go ahead and come in when they can because Mr. Nick can solve anything!” She rolled up her sleeve, and I knew that meant I had no choice. “They will be here at new-n they said. Umm…Mr. Nick? What is new-n?” Poor Pearly. So adorable and naïve.
I get up and look at the clock. 11:15am. Good…there is still time get ready. After getting dressed and reinforcing my hair spikes, I walk out into the main office of Wright and Law Co. where I work.

“Hey, Nick.” Maya greets me with her palms together and a smile, looking like she is ready for anything.

“Good morning, Maya,” I reply, returning her smile.

“What’s for breakfast?” she demands as she presses her lips together, her fists clenched.

“Instant noodles, pal” I say with my best Gumshoe impression.

“Hey, that’s Gumshoe’s endearing characteristic!” she complains, and I recall a vague memory of the time when Gumshoe made that same statement. I notice that Pearl begins humming a familiar TV show theme song in the other room.

“Is there anything else?” she pleads as she lets out a huge sigh.

“I can make waffles again.” I smirk – anticipating the response.

“I made the waffles last time, Nick, and every other time! Last time, you spilled syrup all over my channeling uniform!”

“Maybe if you had real clothes, you would have been able to change out of it,” I shoot back at her. “Perhaps a waitress’s outfit? At least it would have had an apron for your nasty spill.”

“You mean YOUR nasty spill!” she responds with a sly smile. “Fiiiiiiine, I’ll make the breakfast. AGAIN.” She skips daintily to the other room to get Pearl’s assistance.

I sit down at my desk. After going through several old case files, one of them prompts me to stop and glance at a picture of Mia on my desk. Her face glows and her hair falls neatly behind her. She has her arms crossed in a sophisticated manner. I think for a moment about how long it’s been since THAT case…and how much I wish she was still here. Suddenly, I feel an arm around my shoulder.

“I miss her too,” Maya says in a gentle voice. “You know, I can see part of her in you. The way you talk in court and think things through – you remind me of her in a lot of ways.”

I smile. Maya’s hand slips off of my shoulder and she goes into the other room.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK*

I look at the clock. 11:58am. It must be our visitor.

“I GOT IT!” Pearl yells excitedly as she dashes over to the door. I get up to follow her over to the door, but a gasp greets me before I get there.

“Um…Mr. Nick?” Pearl asks me shyly. A familiar voice sounds from the doorway.

“Well, well. How are you, Phoenix Wright? It’s been too long.”

*CRACK* *CRACK*

“OWW!” I screamed. The whip left a considerable red mark on my left arm.

“Phoenix Wright! Invite me in!” demanded Franziska Von Karma, the German prodigy prosecutor whom I was all too familiar with. Pearl scurries off into the other room.

“Er…come on in,” I stammered. It had been a while since I’d seen her. She still had on her trademark black gloves and suit with the white sleeves.

“Well? Aren’t you going to pull up a chair for me?” she requests. I gaze briefly at the couch next to us. Finally, I simply do as she wishes and fetch a chair from the other room. “Foolish fool, doesn’t even know how to treat a lady,” I hear her mutter. As I reenter the room, I notice the look on Von Karma’s face: slightly agitated, perhaps a bit impatient – like she needs to be somewhere or be doing something important.

“How may I help you, Ms. Von Karma?” I say with a sigh, sitting down in my own chair. She clears her throat.

“As you may have already known, I was on business in Europe. However, I decided to venture back after I received some news of a foolish variety.”

“And that would be?” I inquire, slightly intrigued.

“Why, Edgeworth’s foolish decision to not testify in court, of course,” she says matter-of-factly. “I have come to grant him a retrial.”

“B-but…” I splutter. “I thought there was no hope left for him? I thought you could only be tried once for the same crime.”

“Foolhardy fool with a foolishly foolish nature,” she spits. “In your country, a retrial can occur for a variety of reasons. He plead the Fifth, which generally prohibits a retrial unless the verdict was “guilty” or undecided in the first case. Honestly, do you know anything about law, Mr. Phoenix Wright?”

“Well…good! Great! So you’re saying there is a chance we can save him, Ms. Franziska Von Karma?” I reply, mocking the way she addresses me by my full name.

“That’s why I’m here, Phoenix Wright. I want you to be the defense attorney when his retrial occurs.”

I looked away. Of course I want Edgeworth to be freed of all charges, as I believe firmly in his innocence. But I failed him once…how can I go back in there and risk failing him again?

“Look…” I began. “I don’t think I can-“

“Oh, stop with all this nonsense, Phoenix Wright,” she interrupts.

“…Von Karma…”

She continues. “As much as I hate to admit it, you are the greatest defense attorney I have ever battled in court. Afterall, you are the first to defeat me. If anyone can save Edgeworth, it’s you.”

“Th-thank you…” A tear nearly wells up in my eye.

“Hmph,” she bumbles. “Anyway, I will be the prosecutor on the case this time around.”

“But…” I stutter in my confusion. “You just said you want me to defend Edgeworth. That would imply you are knowingly taking part in a court case that you intend to lose!”

Von Karma looks out the window and remains silent. The faint sound of birds chirping and a light wind banishes the silence. Then, all in one motion, she runs her hand through her hair, stands up, and starts toward the door.

“Three days, Phoenix Wright,” she says. “The trial begins in three days. I will expect you there.” And she promptly walks out of the office building and closes the door.