132 I’ll Stand By You

When you’re down and troubled,
And you need some love and care,
And nothing, nothing is going right
Close your eyes and think of me,
And soon I will be there
To brighten up even your darkest night.

You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I’ll come running to see you again
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you have to do is call
And I’ll be there
You’ve got a friend

If the sky above you grows dark and full of clouds
And that old north wind begins to blow
Keep your head together and call my name out loud
Soon you’ll hear me knocking at your door

You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I’ll come running, running, yeah, yeah, to see you again
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you have to do is call
And I’ll be there
And I’ll be there, yes I will.

Now, ain’t it good to know that you’ve got a friend
When people can be so cold?
They’ll hurt you, yes, and desert you
And take your soul if you let them,
Oh, but don’t you let them

You’ve got a friend
Ain’t it good to know, you’ve got a friend?

 Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth
Wright Talent Agency
April 20, 2026, 7:30 PM

“I can certainly appreciate that, how a large, empty manor can no longer feel like a home,” Phoenix commiserated. “I imagine I wouldn’t want to be rattling around like a pea in a watermelon shell, either, and all things considered, I don’t blame you for wanting to get the hell out of that presumably ginormous mansion of memories, and as far away from Germany as possible.”

The atrabilious prosecutor didn’t reply to the statement, but instead shuffled his feet, visibly discomfited, while continuing to avert his gaze from the perceptive ex-lawyer’s scrutiny. This only further bolstered his instinctive theory that simply getting away from the residence he’d shared with his fiancée wasn’t the sole reason Miles Edgeworth had hightailed it back to LA.

“As I said, I wouldn’t blame you … If it was the only factor that made you return to Los Angeles.” The pianist searchingly studied his courtroom rival’s guarded countenance. “But was that the case?”

“Fine, Wright! You got me.” Edgeworth heaved a melodramatic sigh. “There was one other reason.”

“Oh?” Phoenix blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected his tight-lipped friend to be willing to open up this quickly! “Go on then…?”

“Naturally there was also the fact that I had you to consider!” The magenta-clad man tapped his temple. “Since your wayward self keeps getting arrested for murder every 5 to 7 years or so, naturally, I had to come back! I imagined you would end up requiring my assistance, one way or another.” He smirked. “Evidently, I was correct with my initial supposition.”

Phoenix barely stifled a scream of aggravation as he momentarily contemplated acquiring his fourth homicide charge, which would feature the ironic, record-breaking aspect of occurring on the very same day he’d been acquitted of murder charge number three! The nature of the crime? Throttling his smarmy, wisecracking, childhood chum with his own cravat!

“You know you don’t have to be an android with me, right? It’s not like I’m a stranger to having my heart broken, either! It’s downright perturbing how you’re acting so dismissive about this whole thing with Franziska,” he observed with concern. “The two of you were together a very long time – hell, even longer than Maya and I. You’re allowed to be a little bit upset about things ending, especially the way they did. I mean, you guys were engaged and had a child together for Chrissakes…”

“Perhaps I prefer not to dwell on the things I cannot change, and merely wish to keep calm and carry on with my life!” The chess enthusiast snapped, cutting him right off mid-sentence. “Not everybody is an emotional basketcase like you are, Wright!”

The card shark recoiled slightly beneath the prosecutor’s intense, withering gaze. Past experiences aplenty had made him privy to the fact that Edgeworth’s temper resembled a gradually filling glass, devoid of apparent anger until it reached its brim, at which point all pretenses were discarded. A prudent individual would seek refuge at that juncture.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t squelch the persisting hunch he’d somehow said something triggering to have made the normally placid man react the way he just had. Moreover, he sensed he was a hair’s breadth away from getting the Tight-Lipped One to release the pent-up emotions he was bottling up.

But what could it have possibly been? The former defense attorney wondered. What I would give right now to possess Trucy or Apollo’s gift of perception! As it is right now, Edgeworth’s got two gigantic psyche locks over him right now, with the chains rattling so loudly and distractedly, I can barely keep my thoughts together! My stupid magatama is useless at times like this! All it does is tell me that someone is keeping secrets! I already know he’s keeping secrets! The question is what secret is he hiding from me?!

The spiky-haired man had never considered himself to be an overly invasive or nosy person. However, he’d always cared deeply about his nearest and dearest, and his instincts were wildly alerting him that his best friend was like a ticking time bomb ready to detonate at any minute at the slightest trigger! Even though the results would be potentially explosive, it was an outcome that was very much needed. It was beyond unhealthy to be harboring everything inside like this. He could speak from personal experience about how much freer he’d felt since spilling his own guts earlier that evening.

“You know, Edgeworth,” he ventured cautiously. “The marvel of humanity lies in our capacity to transform every heartbreak and hurt into something OK, given sufficient time and care. Despite the current pain, time truly is an eventual healer of all wounds.”

“Spare me the vapid platitudes, Wright!” The charcoal-haired man’s glower only intensified tenfold at the well-intended words. “As you initially proclaimed, regarding your own failed romance, things just didn’t work out. Obviously, something in our relationship was awry, and I so aberrantly failed Franziska that she felt she couldn’t speak to me about it, thus determining that to leave was not only the easier but the better way to go about things.”

He turned his head away so that his long bangs partially obscured his profile, so Phoenix was no longer able to see his expression.

“All her life, Franziska has always felt that I left her behind. I guess this last parting away from her was one time too many, and she feared I would be gone for too long this time. She was afraid of being left again, so she did the leaving.”

Phoenix was filled with dismay at this very telling sentence, one he was positive the prosecutor had unwittingly shared with him as it showed the glaring, underlying reasoning behind his saturnine disposition.

I don’t believe this! Edgeworth’s seriously blaming himself for this?! I have no idea what happened, but absolutely nothing he is capable of doing ever could have possibly deserved what Franziska did to him! Not one goddamn thing!

He frantically wracked his brain as he tried to think of a way to make his friend see how psychologically damaging and erroneous his self-loathing, self-blaming game was, without getting his head bitten off again!

Navigating this situation to prompt him to open up like he did with me poses a challenge. Edgeworth and I share similarities but exist distinctly – I tend to be more expressive, whereas he maintains a reserved demeanor. Despite my lack of his innate eloquence that captivates listeners, I can endeavor to hone my skill in becoming someone others cherish speaking to by adopting an attentive and engaging approach.

Lost in contemplative thoughts, he attempted to drown out the sudden deafening silence and walked over to the small stereo Trucy had purchased for the office. The sound system was one of those high-tech models, with a five-CD changer and digital radio, plus a remote. Having never been a mechanical person in his entire life, Phoenix tended not to fiddle with it too much, but at that point, he was desperately hoping some background noise would fill this awkward void.

“Let’s put on some music in the meantime, shall we?” He offered with false bonhomie as he pressed a button to turn on the radio.

Immediately, the small room was filled with the pulsating beat of “Sexy and I Know It” by LMFAO.

Girl look at that body
Girl look at that body
Girl look at that body
I work out

When I walk in the spot, this is what I see
Everybody stops and they staring at me
I got passion in my pants
And I ain’t afraid to show it (show it, show it, show it)

I’m sexy and I know it…

Edgeworth snapped out of his taciturn woolgathering and scowled in the direction of the stereo before directing it at the beanie-wearing man. The last thing in the world he needed, in his disquieted mental state, was a tune reminding him of his other ex! It was the same cretinous song choice Jilly and Carlos, their makeover artists, had decided to play that night when he had first realized he’d still had conflicting and unresolved feelings for the newly transformed glamazon that was Lana Skye, turned Debbie Dallas, who’d gone on to be his undercover partner for the next year!

For the hagridden man, the word sexy would give him the heebie-jeebies for all eternity, due to his former geriatric stalker, who, with his dreadful misfortune, was undoubtedly, somehow still alive! Despite not having laid eyes on Wendy Oldbag in nearly a decade, infinitely seared into his skull was that nails on blackboard cooing of: “My sexy-wexy Edgy-Poo!”

“Cease that appalling noise immediately!” He commanded, uncaring that the hobo nearly leaped a foot off the ground at the unexpected volume of his pitch. “Is this drivel what the youth of today consider to be music?!”

“I kinda thought the song was sorta catchy since I have a teenage daughter, and this is the kind of stuff she plays all the time,” Phoenix replied helplessly as he stabbed at another button on the remote, hoping it would change the channel, lest he became this evening’s homicide victim, rather than the perpetrator if the stink-eye the prosecutor was presently shooting at him was an accurate indication of things to come!

The bravura intoning of Celine Dion’s “The Power of Love,” began to play, and the Baron of Bluffing relaxed slightly.

‘Cause I am your lady

And you are my man
Whenever you reach for me
I’ll do all that I can

We’re heading for something
Somewhere I’ve never been
Sometimes I am frightened
But I’m ready to learn
Of the power of love…

This ariose should be fine to play in the background! It’s nice and calming and may alleviate Edgeworth’s noticeably frayed nerves…

On the other side of the room, the legal eagle was still utterly gobsmacked by how deeply he would be affected by something as simple as a song!

Before Franziska, he had scoffed at those attributing undue sentiment to depersonalized lyrics, deeming them silly and emotionally immature. However, this perspective underwent a profound transformation upon falling in love with his former fiancée. Now, this shift in outlook was coupled with the imminent deluge of sorrow and an unending abyss of suppressed torment that awaited him if he permitted the same song that had been playing the night he had proposed to Franziska, atop his condominium rooftop, accompanied by a live string quartet …

“Change the channel,” he rasped, shutting his eyes to hide the anguish in them. “Please, Wright … turn on something else. Anything else.”

Responding swiftly, Phoenix complied, noting the discernible tremor in the typically composed man’s voice, heightening his own apprehension. Down to his proverbial last two chances with the Ace Music Critic, he hesitated to make any more choices, especially regarding the music. Recognizing the disastrous turn his DJ role had taken, he opted to abandon the idea of switching stations. Instead, he concluded that silencing the accursed stereo might be the best course of action, considering it seemed to agitate rather than soothe his already troubled friend.

His inept fingers clumsily navigated the elaborate remote, grappling with the myriad keys in an attempt to locate the power button. Inwardly cursing, he inadvertently increased the volume. The perplexity stemmed from his daughter’s insistence on acquiring a deluxe model adorned with an abundance of rainbow buttons and an equally confounding array of bells and whistles. To make matters worse, he still hadn’t mastered changing his cell ring tone from the Steel Samurai theme. Amidst this technological struggle, the pianist persisted in deciphering the enigma of his earlier statement, convinced it held the key to coaxing his best friend into finally confiding in him.

Two things happened in the next instant. Unfortunately, while the Luddite ex-lawyer still hadn’t figured out how to power off, he did manage to change stations, onto another, hopefully, less aggravating song! Plus, he’d finally figured out what had caused the prosecutor to react as he had!

“The two of you were together a very long time – hell, even longer than Maya and I. You’re allowed to be a little bit upset about things ending, especially the way they did. I mean, you guys were engaged and had a child together for Chrissakes…” 

Got it! The pianist barely resisted the urge to triumphantly snap his fingers. I just grasped why he got so upset! Now I’m cursing and judging myself for not having recognized the contributing vagaries of his mood change until now! How dense can I get?!

Ignoring the sweet-sounding music, still without lyrics, softly playing in the milieu, Phoenix walked over and placed a consoling hand on his friend’s arm, his visage etched with genuine contrition.

“I’ve been trying to push you into a tête-à-tête with me about your split with Franziska, thinking I could empathize based on my own experience with Maya. Yet, I now realize my failure to fully grasp the unique and profound depth of your situation. But obviously, I’m the absolute imbecile you always say I am, because I failed to apprehend just how uniquely tragic your situation comparatively is.”

Edgeworth studied him warily, as though bracing himself for his benign friend’s undoubtedly tendentious impending inference on the situation, while only dimly aware the backdrop melody was now beginning to play a tune by a band he didn’t know, which the DJ had said was called “Gone Too Soon” by Daughtry.

“Uniquely tragic?” He echoed, visibly disconcerted while becoming more and more aware of the poignant lyrics the ex-American Idol contender was beginning to croon.

Today could have been the day,
That you blow out your candles,
Make a wish as you close your eyes.

“I feel like such a chowderhead.” The kindhearted, but clueless Phoenix was presently exclaiming, unaware of the agonized expression his friend wore as the next verse played. “Stevie Wonder would have been able to see how our situations are nowhere near similar.”

Miles Edgeworth
Konigsfeld im Schwarzwald, God’s Acre Cemetery, Germany
April 20, 2026

The night had come and gone without unconsciousness for even a moment.

Miles stirred at dawn after a restless night in his childhood home. Despite being in familiar surroundings, he grappled with an intense sense of hiraeth, indomitable homesickness for a past that could no longer be revisited. Coupled with this was an overwhelming yearning, nostalgia, and grief for the places now lost, a sentiment that frequently threatened to engulf him, rendering restful sleep an elusive prospect.

The joy of waking has dwindled. Briefly, upon stirring, a semblance of completeness teases me, swiftly dissipating like summer rain on the scorched ground. My lids, heavy with sleep, snap open as if roused by Franziska’s comforting warmth beside me. Yet, reality swiftly intrudes, revealing the vast emptiness across the expansive bed—a stark reminder of my solitude.

In seconds, he was down the stairs and pulling on his shoes, grabbing his suitcase, stepping outside, and embracing the cool spring air, without even a jacket before getting into the waiting car out front, with the solemn Hans at the wheel. Without speaking, the manservant headed towards the first of the two destinations for his Master. Words were unnecessary. The German man knew where he was supposed to go.

Miles squeezed his eyes shut and fought back the burning sensation behind them as the Mercedes pulled into the gates of the graveyard and Hans opened the passenger door for him to exit, then proceeded to patiently await his return.

Swiftly, he marched towards his destination, mindful of the limited time at his disposal. His aim: a brief but meaningful visit with his cherished little angel. There, he intended to present her with both belated Christmas and birthday gifts and shower her with a tender Christmas and birthday kiss.

On February 15, Carol Von Karma-Edgeworth would have been a year old. In his hands was a tiny, pink, terry cloth bunny, along with a mini-brown teddy with a Santa hat. He’d been away when the holiday had passed, so he had two gifts to lay down at Carol’s graveside.

His tiny, perfect Carol, now reunited with his parents and Minna Von Karma in heaven. She had possessed such an exquisite, pearlescent, almost translucent complexion, and her hand, no larger than his index fingertip, had been held with an unyielding grip until the moment the nurse gently took her away for the final time.

Perhaps, after this, he would settle into her memories for yet another year, content to remain silent and unseen. By the time he reached the small marble tombstone, the arduous journey had faded from his memory. As his tear-filled eyes rested upon the text etched into the tiny gravestone, his chest tightened, making each breath a struggle. Placing the bear and bunny on the morning dew-covered grass, the tribulation surged with every exhaled breath, never sufficiently eased by the long intakes of damp spring air. Helpless tears spilled onto the newly growing meadow as his misty gaze descended from bloom to bloom.

Gone too soon. I would have given you all I had and loved you like no other.

“Forgive me, my angel, for missing both Christmas and your birthday during my time away. Though physically distant, my thoughts remained solely with you, and you were never forgotten. Two presents here stand testament to your place in my heart, even as my body resided in another country.”

He clenched his teeth, suppressing the teardrops threatening to escape his stinging eyes. “Regrettably, Daddy can’t linger this time; a plane awaits for departure. The uncertainty of my return visit looms, Carol, but wherever I go, your memory will accompany me every day, for the entirety of my life. Rest in peace, my sweet angel. Daddy loves you immensely.”

Rising slowly, he pressed a kiss against his two fingertips and pressed them onto the gravestone. It was then that the floodgates opened. Initially, a solitary bead escaped, tracing a path down his cheek, followed by others until his eyes overflowed like rainfall, moistening the cold, damp earth beneath. Sniffing every ten seconds, he allowed the tears to flow until they eventually subsided.

With a shaky hand, he blew one last, salty kiss, then he raised his skyward eyes to the Lord.

Miles sought solace in His love more than ever now.

“Dear God, please watch over my sweet baby girl.”

Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth
Wright Talent Agency
April 20, 2026, 7:30 PM

Who would you be?
What would you look like,
When you looked at me for the very first time?
Today could have been the next day of the rest of your life…

“How could I possibly think I could connect to what you’re going through?” The poker champ continued mindlessly, unconversant to everything except lambasting himself for his obtuseness. “You didn’t only come home to find out that your beloved disappeared on you without a trace; obviously, Franziska would have taken your daughter with her, hence, you’re grappling with the dual enigma of not only the whereabouts of your wife but also the uncertainty surrounding where your baby is, right?”

Not a day goes by,
That I don’t think of you,
I’m always asking why this crazy world had to lose,
Such a ray of light we never knew,
Gone too soon, yeah.

“Y –Yes,” the grief-stricken lawyer managed to whisper as a lump constricted his throat. “That’s it. I’ve been pondering where my b – baby is…”

Phoenix’s head jerked up as he heard the tremor in that habitually unruffled cadence noting the prosecutor’s lips starting to quiver slightly, then shifted his horrified gaze to the stereo, as though finally hearing the gut-wrenching lyrics for the first time.

Gone too soon…The baby… Holy jumping Mother of God …what have I done?!

The former Ace Attorney sensed the blood draining from his face as he gazed, increasingly horrified, at the other man, finally comprehending the gravity of the situation. Words lodged in his constricted throat.

“Edgeworth, I beg your forgiveness! I’ve been urging you to rely on me, foolishly presuming I could grasp the magnitude of what you’re facing. I had no knowledge, no inkling … until this moment. How could I have been so arrogantly presumptuous?”

The prosecutor saw the comprehension dawning on his friend’s ghostly visage and attempted to smile reassuringly at him, but failed miserably, as the pianist could see the inexorable agony on Edgeworth’s face, as clear as day now.

He conceals his pain behind a forced smile, a facade crafted to shield his friends from concern. The intention is to spare them worry, but the growing torment has reached an intolerable point. Even feigning a smile has become an agonizing endeavor. I don’t need the Gramarye gift of perception to see it now; it’s crystal clear.

Would you have been president?
Or a painter, an author, or sing like your mother?
One thing is evident,
Would’ve given all I had,
Would’ve loved you like no other.

There were absolutely no words to describe how Edgeworth felt at that moment, listening to the oblivious prattling of his best friend with one ear while concurrently having to endure the shot-to-the-heart lyrics in the background. The prickling sensation behind his eyelids intensified, as did the unwavering sensation of Erlebnisse.

This ongoing experience I navigate, deeply entrenched and actively lived, surpasses a simple label like “sad.” The term, though seemingly lightweight, fails to capture the profound weight it carries. It’s more akin to a seed of depression, patiently awaiting the optimal conditions to take root and strangle hope from one’s soul. This emotional state isn’t a fleeting sentiment easily discarded with a cheerful reminiscence or a friend’s smile. It’s a trough from which we strive to ascend, perpetually wary that the climb may become treacherous or, worse, insurmountable. Despite yearning for the world to dissolve around me, the persistent, unbearable pain persists, as if my heart is being mercilessly torn apart, shred by shred.

Inside, Edgeworth snapped like brittle glass, feeling the excruciating sharpness of jagged pieces tearing at his insides. His cheeks drained of color, and he was so overwhelmed with agony that speech became a nearly impossible task.

“T –Turn it off, Wright. Please,” he whispered hoarsely, barely able to make his lips form the words as his body began to shake violently. “I’m begging you. Just … t–turn it off…”

Who would you be,
What would you look like,
Would you have my smile and her eyes?
Today could have been the next day of the rest of your life.

The prosecutor remained scarcely aware as Phoenix, in a desperate frenzy, jabbed at every button on the infuriating remote. With each passing moment, his distress grew, mirroring his friend’s escalating anguish.

Edgeworth, now utterly broken, lacked the tape and glue needed to mend his soul. His heart, subjugated and poorly stapled, pounded aimlessly. His skin clung to aching muscles like a worn canvas. Visible efforts to avoid a breakdown strained him, while his battered mind resembled a lost soul at sea, yearning for a reason to endure.

A single tear slid from those ash-grey eyes, followed by another one, and another one, until soon, a steady stream of droplets flowed its way down the prosecutor’s pale cheeks, releasing the wretchedness and sorrow pent up inside of him all this time, yet still he did not make a sound.

Not a day goes by,
That I don’t think of you,
I’m always asking why this crazy world had to lose,
Such a ray of light we never knew,
Gone too soon, yeah.

The desperate beanie-wearer, at last, stormed over to the stereo, grabbed the plug, and forcefully yanked it from the wall socket. The room was left in a haunting silence, only disrupted by the subdued sniffling of the shattered attorney.

The austere man’s silent weeping was worse than any hysterical fit of crying Phoenix had ever seen. His normally calm eyes were welled up with a bereftness no such virtuous man should ever possess. The depths of his sorrow showed his soul, aged by years of compounded tragedy after tragedy, with little reprieve, and forever tormented by a past that could not be undone. His noiseless cry echoed an eerie solitude; as if he had been compelled to endure suffering in silence.

What would it take to mend a soul as damaged as his? Who would even try?

As my body felt like a cage, Miles Edgeworth, your caring words unlocked me, revealing a door I hadn’t known existed. You extracted the pain, making it bearable by seeing beyond the mask to the true person within. Through thick and thin, you stood by me – firm, reassuring, and kind. For that reason alone, I soar as a bird in the sky, singing once more. You’ve helped countless others. Why must you suffer so?

The swell of gratitude, compassion, and overwhelming sympathy for the selfless yet broken man nearly undid Phoenix. It demanded all the inner strength he possessed to stave off the empathetic tears welling within his eyes.

Six years ago, in the hospital, when the love of my life hung on the precipice of death, Pearl channelled Mia Fey, offering solace in her arms until my sobs subsided. Now, it’s my turn to pay forward that benevolent kindness. Let me be there for you, dear friend. Allow me to provide comfort and strength, as you have always done for me.

Wordlessly, Phoenix held his arms open in invitation and stepped towards the prosecutor.

“What on earth are you up to, Wright?” Edgeworth’s gaze bore into him, his eyes swollen and red, his chest heaving as he fought back tears, involuntarily pulling away slightly.

“Something I’ve wanted to do from the moment I saw your tsundere ass standing in front me for the first time, after seven long years apart.” The spiky-haired man was undaunted as he continued to move towards the stricken man. “I am going to hug my best friend, whether he wants me to or not, and I don’t give a damn if he’s too proud or stubborn to acknowledge this is exactly what he needs right now, every bit as much as I do.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, the grieving man surrendered to the proffered consoling embrace, a strangled sob escaping him. He buried his face in the curve of the pianist’s neck, the weight of unspoken grief overwhelming him. In that silent union, they stood, Edgeworth’s suppressed whimpers cascading with the force of years of restrained emotion. The former attorney just silently stood there and let him cry in his arms, his own heart positively aching for his best friend.

Brick by brick, the stoic prosecutor’s defensive walls crumbled, the facade dismantling completely, heedless of onlookers. Sobs tore through him, ravaging muscles, bones, and guts. His forehead pressed against his confidant’s shoulder, tears flowing unchecked as his once stalwart life seemed to disintegrate. The poker champion remained steadfast, offering comforting pats and soothing rubs, infusing warmth into the prosecutor’s aching emptiness.

“Miles, your strength and composure often overshadow your pain,” Phoenix murmured. “You conceal your struggles, comforting others while neglecting your own needs. It’s alright to be vulnerable sometimes.”

“I despise this!” Edgeworth’s voice trembled amid sobs. “Hate showing you my pitiful weakness…”

“People don’t cry because they are weak,” Phoenix soothed. “It’s because they’ve been strong for far too long. Tears speak what the heart can’t articulate, dear friend. It’s OK.”

In response, Edgeworth’s silent weeping erupted into a fierce, audible outpouring. Briny tears streaked his bloodshot eyes, lashes clumped together. Wet tracks marked his cheeks, and tears dripped from his wobbling chin onto his red, mottled skin. His hands clenched and unclenched, seeking a resolution to his agony, until he clutched Phoenix’s baggy sweatshirt, fingers twisting the fabric as if vowing never to let go.

“Let it out,” the hobo urged, offering solace as he gently stroked the prosecutor’s back, sensing the tumult beneath the suit jacket. “You’ll feel better once you release it all.”

“I shouldn’t burden you with this…”

“Don’t be ashamed to cry. I’ve witnessed the darkness too. When you feel alone, remember you’re not. I’m here for you, unwavering. Even in your darkest hour, I won’t abandon you. You’re not alone; you have a lifelong friend in Miles Edgeworth. I’ll stand by you, no matter what.”

“I’ve always known that about you. It was just overwhelming when you started with the clichés about time healing all wounds,” the DA admitted. “I thought: ‘I don’t need trite platitudes now!’ I expected the next thing you’d say was: ‘There are other fish in the sea.’ And if you did, I would’ve said: ‘Fuck you! She was my sea!'”

Tears still streaming, the slate-haired man briefly lifted his head. His friend retrieved a clean tissue from his pocket, gently pressing it against Edgeworth’s knuckles.

“I loved her so much, Wright,” the attorney confessed. “Loving her was effortless, even when it was hard. It was like breathing. Understandably, you weren’t a big fan of Franziska, given your tumultuous history, but…”

“I generally am not a big fan of anyone that ass-fucks my best friend in the heart,” Phoenix spoke in a measured voice. “But it doesn’t matter what I think. What matters is you loved her. This isn’t about me now, it’s about you. You’re crying for your loss.” He swallowed hard as he grasped yet again just how much his dear comrade had endured. “Both of them. Miles, there are no words that can express my condolences to you for your heartbreaking losses. I’m so, so sorry. About your daughter. About Franziska. About everything you’ve endured.”

“I am nothing but sadness now, every other emotion expelled from my being. The love, light, and laughter that once existed are replaced by a profound emptiness.” Edgeworth’s voice, muffled against the poker player’s shoulder, articulated his despair. “I was faithful, truthful, and filled with more love for her than you can comprehend. I’ve been soft, kind, and gentle—yet all of that seems nullified, because, in the end, it seems inconsequential. Franziska didn’t love me enough to bid farewell. I suppose, after losing Carol, our relationship couldn’t withstand the strain. Our love ultimately couldn’t endure the weight of that grief without tearing us apart.”

Phoenix silently wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, gently rubbing his arm as Edgeworth sunk into his side, appreciative of the humble gesture. The simple, caring touch made the room seem cozier somehow, and his future within its walls seemed a little less bleak, and he didn’t want to leave. In his best friend’s comforting arms, it felt as if all his dispiriting sufferance –mental and physical – had gone away –– and that he’d found a haven from the cruel world.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how much heartbreak you must be undergoing right now. I wish I could do more for you than just be a shoulder to cry on. Just know that whenever you do need anything, don’t look any further than me. I may not be able to dispense the same kind of wisdom or advice that you do, but I’ll always be here to at least just listen to you whenever you need an ear.”

“When tears come, it’s not a mere trickle; it doesn’t commence in my eyes.” The barrister crossed to the sofa, settling in, reaching for Kleenex from the table. He dabbed at his eyes, offering a small, appreciative smile to his friend. “It originates as a sensation in my chest and a sorrow in my mind. The flowing tears are a welcomed catharsis, a mechanism my body employs to cope, and perhaps an involuntary means of communication.”

“That’s completely acceptable.” The card shark moved to his side. “Promise me, whenever you need an outlet, you’ll call me. It doesn’t matter if it’s two in the morning, waking me up is fine. I just want to hear your voice. Share the nightmares that trouble your sleep, and explain the reasons behind your insomnia. Tell me why the night becomes your confidant, and why words flow when you believe no one is listening. I’m here for you.”

He reached over and patted the other man on the shoulder, treating him to a reassuring smile as he did so.

“I’m here for you whenever your shoulders bear the weight, attuned to your words when you feel diminished. In moments of silence against your pillow, I’ll sit by your side. I understand your sadness may feel insurmountable, even devastating. I know you may sense powerlessness and redundancy. Reach out to me, even in the darkest hours. Don’t isolate yourself. Miles Edgeworth, you’re my dearest friend. Share your thoughts with me, for I genuinely care.”

“For as long as I’ve known you, even though I know we’re the same age, I’ve instinctively adopted the role of the older, and perhaps wiser, brother between us,” Edgeworth confessed in a gruff tone. “While I appreciate your kindness and support during these trying times, accepting and expressing gratitude will prove challenging for me. I lack the emotional expressiveness you possess in such abundance.”

He looked away with embarrassment and his cheeks turned slightly pink.

“As much as I have mocked you for being an emo head case, Wright, you have had equally as much justification for referring to me as some sort of unfeeling robot by comparison. It’s something that I’m unable to deny. A lot of it could be due to my upbringing, and some of it may just very well be genetics. My father was a lot like I am, the strong, silent type.”

The charcoal-haired man paused for a moment as if trying to collect his thoughts.

“In Dad’s case, it probably was a generational thing of men back then, being a bit somber on the outside and keeping feelings bottled up on the inside. Or perhaps it was because Gregory Edgeworth worked so hard at maintaining the dignity of his legal office. Nonetheless, despite his outward sternness, he was a very loving father to me. Manfred, on the other hand, was the embodiment of toxic masculinity. He always told me that a real man never cried, and was even more of a soulless automaton that you occasionally accuse me of being.”

“I’m often surprised that you and Franziska possess any humanity whatsoever, having both been raised by that monster,” Phoenix stated bluntly. “It’s like a miracle that either one of you has any kind of heart! Considering what Manfred did to you, Edgeworth, you would’ve had a complete free pass to be some kind of psycho, or lowlife criminal with a chip on his shoulder or even a serial killer!”

“I suppose I’d have been most blessed to have a best friend who was a defense attorney, should I have stumbled down the dark path you have so nobly given me your compassionate consent to have pursued!” Edgeworth cocked an eyebrow at his now blushing chum, who undoubtedly had just realized he had accidentally put his foot in his mouth … yet again!

“I’m not saying it would have been OK for you to turn out that way!” Phoenix amended hastily, feeling his cheeks burning. “I’m just saying it would’ve been somewhat understandable!”

“My mother died at a very young age, but throughout most of my formative years, and until I was 16, Franziska’s mother, Minna Von Karma, was as close to an angel on earth as you could get.” Edgeworth smiled sadly. “She instilled a lot of kindness and a decent morality within me. I can attribute a lot to my humanity to her.”

“If she was responsible in any part of raising you, God bless her soul. She did a great job,” Phoenix said kindly. His friend smiled ruefully at the compliment, then shook his head.

“I’m no more a saint than you are, Wright. Before I became the man that you know today, I too, have done some things in my life that I’m not very proud of.” A long sigh. “Just before I came back over here from Europe, I came very close to indulging in a sinful moment of temptation.”

The pointed emphasis on the last word in the sentence left the former lawyer no doubt this time as to what was being implied.

“You’re still being too hard on yourself. The point is you did manage to resist the said temptation! Since Maya and I split up, I’ve had my own moment of nearly indulging in sinful indiscretion. However, it wasn’t my conscience that ultimately rescued me from temptation.” The pianist felt his cheeks reddening. “Certain other… humiliating external factors are what kept me from making a tremendous, regrettable mistake!”

“Oh? Do tell?” Edgeworth eyed him curiously, and the other man groaned with embarrassment.

“Ah, let’s save that conversation for another time, shall we?”

“I shall have to remember to interrogate you more about said humiliating external factors later.” There was a glimmer of amusement in the prosecutor’s granite orbs. “Although it appears we have diverted from our original conversation. I want to convey to you that I am not ungrateful or purposely trying to shun any advice that you give me, my friend. It’s just that I’ve grown rather accustomed to giving, as opposed to, getting advice. I shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did when you said that it’s in us, as humans, to recover from heartbreak in due time. It was very encouraging to hear that I will not always feel this way; that someday, I may experience vorfreude once more.”

“Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but the day will come when you will once again experience the joyful, intense anticipation that comes with imagining future pleasures,” Phoenix said gently. “I promise you that.”

“You have had a lot longer to get over the misery of losing the love of your life. Consequently, it may not be fair to ask, but … how have you gone about getting past this? I know you well enough to acknowledge the dolor is still there with you, but the fact that you can even shower and get out of bed is a huge achievement, and certainly more than I’d ever felt like doing since I realized Franziska was gone. What’s your secret, Wright?”

Phoenix let out a self-effacing chuckle.

“It’s not so much that I’ve gotten over Maya as much as the piercing misery has dwindled to a dull numbness. I’ll spare you the embarrassing details about how I drank myself into a stupor when I found out my ex was engaged, and all the times I bawled like a baby in the shower when I was sure Trucy couldn’t hear me.”

He flashed a wry grin at his friend’s sympathetic expression.

“The crucial step is to cease suppressing emotions and grant yourself permission to experience them. Take a moment alone, perhaps on a park bench. Inhale deeply, allowing memories to surface. Instead of attempting to forget, deliberately remember. Close your eyes and recall the sound of her voice calling your name, the warmth of her hands enveloping yours, the texture of her lips and kisses, the silky strands of her hair between your fingers, and the sensation of her breath on your skin. Revisit the echoes of her laughter, especially the instances where something you said elicited joy, etching an indelible smile on your face. Embrace the act of remembering, and let the memories persist.”

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit for your eloquence, Wright.” The logic genius furrowed his brow as he contemplated his chum’s words. “That is pretty sound advice. I spent this past week trying not to remember Franziska … And other people from my past, who shall remain nameless for now, because it’s just been too damn hard and too bloody painful.”

“You can’t perpetually evade your past as a crapehanger. Sooner or later, you must confront the pain directly—face it head-on. Treat it like any other challenge you’ve conquered in the past,” Phoenix advised. “Recall those memories until they make you dizzy, for they will. They’ll torment you until you find yourself curled up under the sheets, enduring excruciating pain. Nightmares will persist for at least three months, but eventually, they will cease.”

“I had nightmares for years about the earthquake that ultimately resulted in my father losing his life.” Edgeworth closed his eyes and crossed his arms protectively across his chest, as though trying to hug himself. “It seems my life is going to be a series of nightmares, in one form or another, whether I like it or not.”

“I’m here to support you,” Phoenix vowed. “Facing this ordeal alone won’t be necessary. When you’re wounded, extracting the bullet with sanitized tweezers is an agonizing process. Yet, leaving it lodged in your skin leads to infection that won’t dissipate. The reality is that true healing demands confronting inner torment. Remove your metaphorical bullet; that’s the key to overcoming her.”

“So you think I should let her go, and move on?”

“Do you want to let her go?”

“I still love her. I don’t think I do. Not yet.”

“There are times in life when people must know when not to let go. Balloons are designed to teach small children this.”

“While your advice is sound, your allegories are god-awful, Wright! Stick with plain speaking. It suits you much better.”

“To be frank, I believe the absence of closure is profoundly distressing. If you desire it, seek her out. Your situation lacks the complications mine has. No apparent third party impedes you from reconnecting with Franziska. Whether to reconcile or obtain answers, pursue her.”

“Does that mean I should ignore all the counsel on bullet extraction and moving on, then?”

“No. You can’t heal with that bullet still lodged within. Confront the pain directly; don’t suppress it but conquer it,” Phoenix suggested. “Life’s scope depends on one’s courage. The effort to live is more draining than living itself. You push through. You make yourself rise, put one foot in front of the other, and damn it, you refuse to succumb. Fight. Cry. Curse. Then proceed with the business of living. That’s how I’ve managed it. There’s no alternative.”

A slight smirk played over the musician’s lips.

“Oh yeah, and then remember you work for Interpol and have access to resources most of us mere mortals do not!”

“You’re right.” The attorney mulled this over. “I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that one of my best friends is The Great Thief, Yatagarasu, and an invaluable source for tracking down information! Perhaps I can start with approaching both Kay and Agent Lang to assist with my quest for my runaway fiancée.”

“There’s that fighting spirit of the man I’m proud to call my heterosexual life partner!” The card shark cheered, gently punching his friend in the arm.

“Good grief, Wright!” Edgeworth stared at him incredulously. “Whatever possessed you to come up with such a ridiculous term?”

“I heard Trucy refer to Pearl that way once, but it also suits us quite well methinks!” Phoenix pulled off his beanie and playfully tugged it down on the other man’s head. “About as well as my hat does – you should consider wearing more blue, Edgeworth. It  brings out those peepers of yours!”

“Get this horrendous thing off me!” The unamused barrister yanked the offending accessory off of his perfectly groomed head and fastidiously attempted to smooth his hair back into place. “I cannot believe that somebody hasn’t put that grotty thing out of its misery and killed it with fire!”

“At ease, good man! My kid gave that to me!” Phoenix snickered, putting the hat back on. He was feeling considerably jovial about the part he’d played in his friend’s metanoia, realizing the prosecutor was no longer as downtrodden since he was already morphing back into his usual, tight-assed self! “Would you prefer if I referred to us as brothers-in-arms instead?”

“No.” The prosecutor crossed his arms and tried to stifle an exasperated smile at the other man’s ludicrousness. “I would most certainly not.”

“My brother from another mother?” The ex-attorney’s eyes were twinkling with mischief.

“I cannot believe two supposedly grown men are having such an asinine conversation!” Edgeworth groaned. “Wright, you and I do not need to be defined in any way!”

“Oh lighten up, Edgy! I was just having fun! You are way too uptight!”

“And you are absolutely ridiculous!”

The two men glared at each other for a split second, and then they both cracked up at the exact same time.

“I suppose I should be grateful that pesky propagandist, Lotta Hart, isn’t here to witness us bickering like an old married couple,” the grey-eyed man chuckled. “She would undoubtedly come up with some sort of bunkum in an attempt to sell the ‘scoop’ of our alleged romance to all the tabloids!”

“I reckon the southern she-devil would’ve had better material if she’d captured a photo of you in my arms just now, and would use that to further her proof about our secret chains of love that bind us together!” Phoenix guffawed. “And she’d probably Photoshop the picture of our hug and make it look like we were making out or something before she tried to put us in the headlines! I can just see it now… They would make our couple name …Wrightworth!”

“Ngh!” The cravat-wearing man blushed furiously at the reminder of his uncharacteristic need to be hugged. “This nonsensical joke has gone a bit too far! No depraved, twisted fiend would seriously want to see a couple of boring lawmen in any sort of embrace or relish the thought of the two of us together as an actual couple!”

“I think you’re wrong!” Phoenix shot back with a wicked grin. “Think of all the Miles Edgeworth fangirls out there who’d probably swoon at the idea… and probably draw fan art for it! Especially with the whole angle of us being childhood best friends. They would entirely misconstrue the closeness of our bromance and would look for any indication whatsoever that there was more to it than friendship. They wouldn’t even care that I had a girlfriend in college and would insist Iris was just a phase. There are some hard-core Yaoi-loving-ladies out there who would positively eat that stuff up with a spoon!”

“Gah! Shut up, Wright!”

“It wouldn’t just be them drawing pictures of us, either! They would probably write fan-inspired fictional romance stories about our burning, passionate love as well!” Phoenix was thoroughly enjoying himself now, and his friend’s indignant discomfort just made it all the more hilarious to him. “There’s also the fact that you’re kind of man-pretty, Edgy, so there’s probably some folks out there who’d also enjoy the idea of you totally being gay for me as well!”

“Objection!” The prosecutor shouted. “Why would I have to be the one that was gay for you? They could just as easily claim that you’re the one harboring an unspoken infatuation for me!”

“Nah, no one would believe that I’m gay – probably bisexual at most. I dress like a hobo and I’m too scruffy!” Phoenix smiled smugly. “You’re the prissy, overly fussy one who’s always impeccably groomed, and insists on wearing that pink suit!”

“It’s not pink!” The man of questionably-colored suit seethed. “It’s magenta!”

“And then there’s the additional evidence of that frilly, fluttery napkin thingy you wear around your neck…”

“It’s called a cravat, you Philistine!”

“There is also the fact that you chartered a private jet for me,” the pianist laughingly reminded his now fuming dialogue partner. “And didn’t you once say… ‘Thanks to you, I am saddled with unnecessary feelings’? Or something to that effect?”

“That idiot Butz told me you were on death’s door when all you had was a cold! I knew I should have sent you the bloody jet bill!”

“Oh come on, Edgy, how exactly did you think I would have paid for that?” Phoenix drawled. “With my good looks?”

“Poppycock! Also, I do believe the full completed sentence was: ‘Thanks to you, I am saddled with unnecessary feelings. Unease and uncertainty. They only serve to get in my way’.” The irked lawyer shot daggers at the mocking pianist. “That was back in the day when I was under Manfred’s influence, and accustomed to suppressing any kind of emotion; it had naught to do with harboring romantic feelings for you!”

“Objection! You also bent the law and became a defense attorney as a personal favor for me!”

“And you apparently shaped your entire career path and wanted to become a lawyer because of me!”

“That was more influenced by meeting Mia after my first murder accusation. Finding you again was merely the cherry on the already-established sundae!”

There was a brief moment of silence as the two glared at each other for a moment … until the sheer lunacy of it all kicked in. A split-second later, at the same time, both men were bending over and clutching their sides as they doubled over and roared with hysterical laughter, for a good five minutes straight, until tears spilled from their eyes.

“Oh, Wright!” Edgeworth gasped, wiping the droplets of mirth away from his cheeks. “I don’t know how to thank you. I have needed that desperately, you have no idea!”

“The pleasure was all mine!” Phoenix dabbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his baggy hoodie. “What do you say to a change of scenery? Wanna get out here and grab something to eat?”

“That would be marvelous. The food on the airplane was unequivocally abominable, so I am famished, and I know this splendid steak and seafood restaurant, LA Prime.” Edgeworth frowned as he scrutinized his companion’s hobo gear. “It’s a bit of a more … upscale sort of establishment though. Do you own anything a bit dressier than that ratty sweatsuit?”

“I might have some khakis I can throw on, buried in the back of my closet.” The ex-attorney shrugged at his friend’s aghast expression at the term khakis. “And I guess I can throw on the Polo shirt Trucy got me for my last birthday – oh wait – I think that’s the one with the pudding stain that never quite washed out…”

“Gosh, all hemlock!” The charcoal-haired man looked appalled at this proposed fashion blasphemy. “Can you not just put on your old blue suit?!”

“I’ve had nothing to do with my free time except jog and workout since I’ve been disbarred, so I’ve muscled up a bit over the years – noticeably so, according to my daughter’s teachers, as you know! – so my old blue suit would be too tight and probably doesn’t fit right anymore.” Phoenix flashed a disarming grin. “With my luck, I’d probably split my pants open, right in the middle of dinner.”

“Cease your bromidic blathering!” The prosecutor moaned in defeat. “Perhaps they can seat us at a dark corner table. But at least leave that wretched, manky beanie at home!”

“Your wish is my command,” the pianist replied easily as he hung up his hat on the coat rack by the front door. “I think I know the restaurant you’re talking about. It’s located atop the Westin Bonaventura Hotel, right?”

“That’s the one.”

“Isn’t it up on the 35th floor – so you’d need an elevator to get up? What about your phobia?”

“There are stairs,” Edgeworth responded loftily as the two men exited the apartment. “I think in preparation for an indulgent steak dinner, a healthy trek up the steps will be more than enough preemptive exercise to further get some of this lingering agitation out of my system while preparing myself for the calorie-laden feast.”

“Walk up 35 flights? Forget that! I’m taking the lift and will meet you up there for this rather steep feast!” Phoenix smiled innocently. “You’re buying, right?”

“As is tradition,” the prosecutor replied wryly, straightening out his suit jacket. His Patrician features turned pensive as his hand brushed over the inside lining.

The letter to Lana was still there in the suit pocket.

Phoenix’s wise words suddenly resurfaced in his mind.

“There are times in life when people must know when not to let go. Balloons are designed to teach small children this.”

At the time, Edgeworth had dismissed the words as banal prosaism, but now that he’d had time to think with a clearer head, the full weight of the meaning had brought along an even greater awareness.

Perhaps it wasn’t such a terrible metaphor after all. There are also times when people must know when to let go. The time has finally come for me to release that balloon…

“Er, we can call a cab downstairs, Wright. But before we do, I need to stop by the mailbox at the corner…”

Dick Gumshoe and Maggey Gumshoe
Empire Bellagio, Los Angeles
Gumshoe’s Condo Suite 707
April 21, 2026, 11:30 AM

“I’m just going to try calling her back one last time,” Gumshoe told his wife as he frowned at his cell. “Then I’m going to head out to work.”

“You’ve been trying since last night, with no luck,” Maggey noted as she bounced baby Jeff on her hip, a concerned frown flickering across her features. “I hope she’s alright.”

“She sounded worried sick about Phoenix in her voicemail, and told me to call her back as soon as possible.” He hit the redial button for the umpteenth time. “I don’t know why she hasn’t picked up yet…”

“Hello?”

“Hey!” The big man was startled to get an answer, as he hadn’t expected to make a connection this time either. “Hello! Maya! Is that you?”

“Gumshoe! Thank God we finally connected!” Maya sounded frantic. “I’ve been losing my mind! My flight from Darwin was supposed to have landed 90 minutes ago, but then it was stuck in a holding pattern over Los Angeles, and it took forever to get through customs and baggage!”

She stopped to catch her breath.

“Pearly and I have been stuck on that goddamned aircraft for 16 ½ hours! And then I couldn’t even call you from the plane because the onboard satellite phones weren’t working due to solar activity! It was just Murphy’s Law!”

“That sounds like pretty rough luck, pal,” Gumshoe clucked sympathetically. “I’m so sorry that I missed your call yesterday, but I wasn’t at the station, and then when you called my cell, I was driving.”

“So why wasn’t your Bluetooth connected to your car?!” Maya shrieked.

“I don’t know heads or tails about that sort of stuff, pal, sorry! I recently got a new phone that is supposed to be Bluetooth compatible, and that darn Meekins was supposed to hook it up to my car, but hasn’t gotten around to it yet…”

“Forget that nincompoop!” The spirit medium snapped peevishly. “I just stepped outside at the airport, and was about to hop into a taxi to go see Nick right before you called… because I was losing my mind wondering what the hell was going on!”

“Well, I can tell you now that –”

“Hang on! What the heck –”

Suddenly the call went muted, with the confused Gumshoe remaining on the line for what felt like ages, before the Master finally returned to the call, only this time her tone was completely different, almost like another person altogether.

“My apologies for the delay,” the Kurain Master’s tone was abnormally and eerily calm, and nearly unrecognizable now. “I do believe you were about to let me know the latest information about the situation I was inquiring about?”

“Maya?” The Chief asked uncertainly, wondering if his friend had been body-snatched in the last two minutes! “What’s going on? Is everything OK? Why do you sound so weird?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was nearly icy with its unusual formality. “Could you please just relay the facts pertaining to the issue?”

“Um, Phoenix is fine, Maya,” he answered tentatively, still utterly bewildered by this strange turn of events. “It turns out Kristoph Gavin was the actual murderer, trying to frame him for Shadi Smith’s death. Gavin’s behind bars, and Phoenix is a free man.”

“That is most fortunate to hear,” she responded coolly, as though they were discussing the weather. “Thank you kindly for keeping me apprised about the matter. I’m afraid I have to go now. I will contact you shortly when I’m settled back at my home.”

“Er, sure, pal, but are you sure –” he stopped talking as he realized that Maya had promptly disconnected the call. Utterly flummoxed, the former Detective blinked with bewilderment, then turned to stare at his expectant wife.

“What on earth was that all about?” Maggey asked, looking as mystified as her husband felt. “You told me she was all flipped out with concern about Phoenix – but then she just did a complete turnabout and sounded like she couldn’t have cared less!”

“I don’t know what to think!” Gumshoe raked a restless hand through his dark hair. “She did a 180 on me! Do you suppose the scorching Australian sun fried her brain somehow?!”

“Don’t be silly, Dick!” Maggey admonished, giggling slightly. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for the abrupt shift in her behavior.”

“You mean her bipolar mood swing?!” Gumshoe shook his head. “I guess Mr. Edgeworth was right, and I did misjudge her reaction. I thought I knew Maya well enough by now to be able to read her, but obviously, I was wrong.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Maybe we’re both overthinking this too much.”

“Maybe.” He dragged a hand down his mug. “Honey, I have a confession to make.”

“What’s that, sweetie?”

“Eight glorious years of wedlock and two beautiful children with the woman of my dreams later…” Gumshoe let out a loud groan. “And I realize that despite all this, I still don’t understand you, women… at all!”

“And you never will, sweetie,” Maggey smirked and placed a kiss upon her frazzled husband’s cheek. “I think we gals prefer it that way!”

Lady Gaga – (Chapter Quote Song) You’ve Got a Friend
LMFAO – Sexy and I Know It
Celine Dion – The Power of Love
Daughtry – Gone Too Soon