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The cell phone rings, insistently, almost obnoxiously, just like the man whose ID flashes on the screen. Ever the persistent one.
Wright.
Miles already knows what his husband is calling him so urgently for. He can’t say he is surprised, for Phoenix Wright is known to be a man that feels first and thinks later. In this particular case, as much as he’d deny it out loud, Miles is inclined to share the sentiment.
That knowledge is still not enough to prevent the tell-tale lurch of his stomach, to keep at bay the uncanny feeling of queasiness that has accompanied him the whole day, a feeling of deep sickness he has long learned to associate to the aftermath of an earthquake.
In a sense, this event can be easily considered an earthquake, of the metaphorical kind; it has surely shaken him to his very core and, if he has to make a wild guess based on Wright’s fifth attempt to reach him in two minutes, Phoenix is versing in the same condition.
He can’t postpone, as much as he wishes to. He sighs, resigned, and picks up.
“Wright.”
“Miles!!!” Wright all but yells. Miles flinches, but he says nothing to reprimand him. Wright’s emotional state is justified. “How is she?!? Have you seen here yet?!?”
“No, I haven’t had a chance to drop by the Detention Center yet, most unfortunately. I’ll head there as soon as I’m able to.”
He hates it deeply. He’s been thinking about it the whole day and it’s really weighing on him, to the point he often found himself staring into the void, mind well elsewhere, rather than focused on his job.
Old, Demon Prosecutor would haughtily claim it is foolish, that nothing can possibly be more important than his job. Current Chief Prosecutor and family man Miles Edgeworth would have paid money to drop everything the very second he learned his teenage daughter was arrested for murder, and rush to her side.
He listens to Wright’s heavy, ragged breath. No doubt his frustrations are similar to Miles’s, perhaps even stronger, due to the objective impossibility for him to get back home in tims for the trial. His hands are tied tighter than Miles’s, and both men are more than merely upset about it.
“However, I have come to know Justice and Cykes are already on the case, and have visited several times already. Even prosecutor Gavin dropped by to give Trucy flowers as a comforting gift, visiting rules be damned, and prosecutor Blackquill scoffs at the outlandish idea of she being a murderer. She’s not alone.” he says soothingly. Wright lets out a strangled sound, but when he speaks again he’s calmer, more rational.
“And what about you?” he asks quietly, “Do you believe her?”
As Chief Prosecutor, it is his duty to find the truth. Although he is not privy to the details, prosecutor Sahdmadhi made it rather clear there are indeed several details that could imply a premeditated crime on Trucy’s part. It is his duty as prosecutor to consider the matter from every perspective.
As a father, he does not believe a single word of Sahdmadhi’s claims. Nobody who has known Trucy for longer than five minutes would ever think, even for a second, Trucy to be able to concoct such a depraved plot. Or even to commit a mistake in her show so grave to accidentally slaughter a man, perfectionist as she is. He’d know that, he was the one who had picked her up from the Theatre every night, at the end of long practicing session. It is impossible such a driven, focused professional would make such a fatal blunder.
Miles is conflicted, the man and the prosecutor at odds with each other, but Phoenix deserves the truth from him.
“I do. The Trucy Wright I know, the Trucy you raised, would never do such a thing.”
“The Trucy we raised. She is your daughter as much as she’s mine.”
Despite everything, Miles finds himself smiling. In the end, just as always, Wright is consoling him, rather than the other way around. Ever one to turn it all over its head, even in the direst circumstances.
“I’m aware. Our pride and joy, as you once called her.”
“Well, she is. Don’t even try to play it off, I know you love her with every fiber of your being.”
Miles isn’t even going to deny. It’s useless to hide the stark truth. “Guilty as charged.”
Phoenix chuckles, though it’s still rather shaky and uncertain, a sound he has rarely heard from Phoenix Wright.
“Believe in your employees a little more, Wright. They proved time and time again they’re capable attorneys, never backing down until the truth is exposed. They have learned well.”
Phoenix is silent for a few moments. “I have the utmost faith in Apollo’s abilities. It’s just… I have the feeling I’m failing her. This is one of the extremely rare times she actually needs me, and I’m not there. What kind of father does that?”
The self-berating tone leaves little to no space for doubt. It hurts Miles more than he cares to admit, and elicits memories he has long thought forgotten, of dark elevators and earthquakes. His own father might have not left Miles behind willingly - the thought still made his blood boil - but nevertheless he has experienced the pain of being abandoned.
Still, Phoenix has no reason to blame himself. Miles fails to see how he can be held responsible, and he’s sure so does Trucy.
“You have no reason to feel guilty, Phoenix,” he says. He tries to avoid sounding argumentative, but still he wants to keep a certain stern edge, just enough to cut through the cloud of emotions fogging up Phoenix’s rational judgment. “Your trip and its duration has been scheduled in detail for quite some time. If anything else, it is rather uncanny Trucy was suddenly proposed such a large scale show with little to no forewarning, right in the middle of this trip of yours, and that said show ends up such a massive disaster.”
There’s an ominous silence on the other line as the implication of the scenario Miles has just proposed sink in.
“Do you think it’s planned?”
The boiling rage is clear as day in Phoenix’s words. Miles is just as furious, and he wishes nothing more than to slam behind bars whoever schemed this most coward plot, and to throw away the key.
“I’m only saying it’s rather convenient to be a mere coincidence. How many trips overseas do you habitually take within an year?”
The silence grows in intensity.
“If I get my hands on whoever did this, I swear-”
Miles can’t help but agree enthusiastically. Still, he has to be the rational pillar to counterbalance Phoenix’s emotional outburst.
“The truth will be uncovered tomorrow in court. Prosecutor Sahdmadhi is a harsh, but rather sensible man. I’m sure once Mr. Justice exposes the truth to him, he’ll see it as well.”
Phoenix hums, a bit skeptical. “I sure hope you’re right. From what I’ve seen, Khura’inist prosecutors aren’t too fond of defense attorneys.”
“I will not accept anything less than the truth in my Office,” Miles rebuts easily. “Khura’in or not, I will allow nothing to stand in the way of that goal. If Trucy is truly innocent - and I’m more than certain she is - she will be acquitted.”
There is a sudden static noise filling Miles’s ears. Phoenix is sighing, finally deflating. The crisis is far from over, but Miles hopes he has made his point clear enough for Phoenix to somewhat calm down and become reasonable again. To reinstill some hope.
“Miles?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
Apparently, he was more successful than he first thought. Miles smiles before he can think twice, a suspicious warmth igniting his ears. No matter how many times he heard those words coming from Phoenix’s mouth, they will never stop have this effect on him, a most uncomfortable - and yet so pleasant - sensation of butterflies fluttering madly in his stomach, and of unbelievable warmth.
“The sentiment is fully reciprocated.” he replies softly, “Relax, and please give my regards to Maya. I haven’t seen her in a long while. I do believe a family reunion is in order, once this situation settles and you both are back in the country.”
Phoenix snickers. “Just admit you want to talk about the upcoming new season of the Steel Samurai with her, so you can be nerds together. Speaking of which-” Phoenix ignores the indignant squawk Miles lets out at the very founded, very true accusation he’s been thrown to. “Did you know there is a bootleg Steel Samurai over here? The Plumed Punisher, they call it. She’s, like, the love child of the Steel Samurai and the Pink Princess, fighting evil in Neo Olde Twilight Realm with her faithful Warba’ad Knife. Or so Ahl’bi told me, at least.”
Oh, the nerve. Khura’in is quickly losing points and dropping down in Miles’s list. He harrumphed, peeved by this blatant copy of one of their country’s most prominent and educative shows. Phoenix chuckles again as he correctly guesses Miles’s line of thought.
“Wanna get to a lawsuit for copyright issues already?”
“Don’t tempt me, Phoenix.”
Both men know he would never actually do that, even if he could, but Miles is willing to take a playful hit if it means getting Phoenix relaxed, get his mind off Trucy’s situation, even for a few minutes. For now, it’s apparently working.
Then Phoenix speaks again, and all hilarity has faded away. He sounds tired.
“Thank you. For giving me perspective and get me to think straight again. I’m sorry I blew up your phone like this.”
“Don’t mention it.” Miles nearly doesn’t let him finish. “Your daughter has just been charged with a serious accusation, and you’re in no position to do anything to help her out. It’s a more than logical reaction to have.”
“Our daughter.”
Miles’s lips curl up. He was certain Phoenix would have caught the slip of the tongue in no time. “Right. Our daughter. How could I forget that, after the many times she made my glasses vanish in her magic bloomers.”
Phoenix laughs again, more openly this time.
“She’s a strong-willed girl… but she’s also just a girl. I’m sure she must be scared and lonely right now.”
Understandable, Miles thinks. That’s exactly what he himself felt when he found himself on the wrong half of the Visitor’s Room. He doesn’t even want to think how bad Trucy, who shouldn’t belong to that place regardless on which side of the bullet-proof glass she’s on, is living through it.
His heart clenches tightly.
“I don’t want to bother you but… could you please pay her a visit?” Phoenix asks, almost timidly. “She always hides her fears and pretends to be unaffected, but I just know she is not doing okay as she’d want us all to believe. It would mean so much to her if you could drop by, even just for a couple of minutes. If you could be there for her, to let her know she has a family who cares for her. That she’s not being left behind and forgotten. I know Apollo and Athena have already taken the case and reassured her, but I suppose they’re scrambling to prepare tomorrow’s case…”
Miles immediately gets what Phoenix is trying to say. Miles might not have met Zak Gramarye personally, but Phoenix told him enough for Miles to understand what he is driving at.
“I am going to,” Miles declares firmly, glaring at the unfinished papers lying in front of him. “As soon as I’m done with some paperwork, I’m driving to the Detention Center, to make sure she’s being treated properly. I can assure you whoever happened to disrespect her will pay dearly for their sin.”
Phoenix exhales, clearly relieved. He must have been pondering over this request for a while. Miles can’t help but feel slightly hurt and offended; did Phoenix think he was going to decline? He treasures his work, for sure, but he treasures his family so much more.
As it should be obvious.
“Thank you, Miles. It really means a lot. As always, you’re a life-saver.”
It’s Miles’s turn to let out an amused chuckle. “As flattering of a praise that is, I do believe it’s the other way around, Wright.”
“Details, Miles, details…”
Silence falls again, the tension loosened significantly, both men lost down memory lane, reliving the countless times they went out of their way to help each other however they could, until their relationship just naturally progressed to a deeper bond than mere friendship.
It’s once again Phoenix the one who breaks it. “Then… I’ll leave you to your work. Keep me updated, will you?”
“Of course.” Miles replies, figuring Phoenix would most likely clog up his phone with calls and text either way if Miles, perish the thought, failed to report to him at least every hour.
Miles loves the man beyond anything else, he really does, but he has to admit Phoenix has no self-control whatsoever when it comes down to his family being hurt or in need of help. The confirmation of this arrived just a few days ago, when Phoenix took and won a case in Khura’in.
Miles eventually understood his reasoning, but that didn’t stop him berating Phoenix for nearly thirty minutes on the phone, painstakingly making sure Phoenix was very well aware of the sheer danger he had so carelessly thrown himself into.
One day that impulsive attitude is bound to get him in serious trouble, trouble not even Miles can get him out of.
He shakes his head sharply. Now is not the time to be entertaining such foreboding lines of thought. He has enough worries as it is.
“Then, I guess I’ll leave you be for now. I already stole too much of your time. Love you!”
“Love you too.”
Trucy is tired. She’s so, so tired. She has spent the whole day being volleyed from the questioning room to the visitor’s room to her holding cell and the other way around. Now it’s only 7PM, according to the guard, and she feels like she’s been held in here for a month already. She is all too ready to hit the hay in her small, uncannily clean - she supposes some important friend of Daddy interceded for her there - cell, and pray that Polly and Athena will make it through, tomorrow. She still has no clue as to what the bloody heck happened during that trick. It always flowed smooth, without a single hitch, every time they rehearsed it! She really doesn’t get what went wrong!
She’s hates to admit it, but Trucy is scared. She has always had such faith in her own abilities and magic powers… can it be she isn’t all that big of a deal as she thought she was? That she actually isn’t skilled enough to take over the Gramarye name, that she’s just another lousy amateur who inherited little of her predecessors’ talent?
And the body falling limply, lifelessly from inside the unfolding coffin… brr, she’s never going to forget such a creepy sight ever again. In her time as Apollo’s assistant she saw many taped outlines where dead bodies used to be, but never she had witnessed a man dying right in front of her eyes.
Because of her. Because she is an ambitious, overconfident girl who doesn’t know her place, and that in her cockiness ended up killing a man.
Oh gods, there her stomach goes again.
She’s crouched in a corner of her cell, forcing herself to stop heaving and retching, when a guard opens the door and comes in. He bows a little at her in greeting, and she raises an eyebrow, skeptical. She’s pretty damn sure other prisoners don’t normally get this reverence.
“You have been requested. I am to bring you to the Visitor’s Room at once.”
Trucy looks at him quizzically, and then suspiciously. “Visiting hours are long over.”
The guard looks away, his fingers fidgeting nervously. “Well, you see, it was a rather difficult request to ignore. Would you please follow me? I kinda care for my monthly paycheck.”
That last desperate, almost pleading comment is all Trucy needs to connect the dots. She immediately jumps up and beams, all the tiredness already forgotten.
“Sure! Coming right up!”
So she follows him all the way down to the Visitor’s Room. He unlocks the door for her, but then steps away. She blinks at him, confused.
“I don’t wanna get in the way.” he grumbles. Trucy giggles and shrugs. He probably has a point. She swings the door open and all but saunters inside the room.
“Papa!” she happily greets the man she has long learned to call her father - her third one, she thinks she still detains the record on that - and makes to run up to him and hug him. Then she stops, brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to stay on the other side of the glass? This is the criminal half of the room, isn’t it?”
Miles is indeed standing on the prisoner’s side, rather than on the visiting party. Unfazed, he readjusts his glasses on his nose.
“Indeed it is quite irregular, but the circumstances demanded it. It was not too hard to pull a few strings and get access.”
Trucy smiles broadly. Papa, just like Daddy, is such a loving dork under that stony mask.
Still, she’s so happy. She feels lighter and more relieved than she has all day, even after Apollo gave her that awesome pep talk and got her out of her funk.
Because Papa is here, here in the very same room as her even when he isn’t supposed to be, and she’s not alone.
She blinks quickly, too quickly, the upturned corners of her lips twitch. Her eyes fall, leaving Miles’s face and landing on an empty spot just above his shoulder. They’re subtle changes, very subtle, but Miles, used as he is to hiding his own emotions, notices them clearly.
This is exactly what Phoenix and him feared, and what Miles has come to make sure it didn’t happen. It still doesn’t make it any easier for him. He may have mellowed down significantly under the influence of his family, but he is still far from being anywhere near as empathic and open as Phoenix is. He has yet a few hurdles to overcome in that field.
But at least he’s determined. He steels himself and closes the short distance still standing between them. He looks down at her and places his hand on her shoulder, reassuringly. She’s extremely tense.
“I believe you. So does your father, your friends at Phoenix’s office, and at mine. We’re on your side. You don’t have to face this alone.”
Trucy ducks her head down, though her hand snakes up to lock his one in place against her shoulder. She grips his wrist tightly, like a drowning woman holding on a lifeline, as she shakes uncontrollably under his touch.
“Do you really believe I didn’t do it? Not even that it could have been an accident born out of incompetence?”
“I know all too well how hard you practiced every single part of this show, Trucy. There is no way you could have gotten it so horribly wrong. You are quite the perfectionist when it comes to your magic shows, rehearsing them dozens of times until you reach the perfect execution. For you to make such a grotesque mistake is simply unthinkable.”
There is a beat of silence, then-
“Nggho!!”
Trucy has almost literally thrown herself at him, wrapping him in one of the tightest rib-cracking hugs Miles has ever experienced. Miles sputters and coughs, struggling lightly to catch his breath again.
“Thank you,” Trucy whispers weakly against his waistcoat. “Thank you for not leaving me alone.”
Miles has hardly ever seen Trucy, usually so bright and bubbly in the face of adversities, looking so exhausted and defeated. A little awkwardly, he wraps his arms around her shoulders, delicately keeping her close.
“None of us is ever going to leave you behind, Trucy. Rest assured.”
She trembles and hiccups in-between the now openly streaming tears. He doesn’t really know what to do or say anymore, caught out of his comfort zone but not daring to step back into it, so he settles for doing what Phoenix always does for him whenever a nightmare comes back to haunt his sleep; slowly, he rubs circles across Trucy’s back and shoulders, coaxing her to relax, bit by bit, unhurriedly.
After a few, long minutes, she finally releases him from her vice-like hold. She looks up at him and smiles, her eyes red and puffed. They’re still wet and glistening with tears.
“Thank you. I… really needed that. I’m sorry for your waistcoat. It’s, like, drenched, oopsie.”
“Never you mind about that.” he replies calmly, reaching into his breast pocket to take out his handkerchief, which he offers to Trucy as a better mean to dry her tears than her silk gloves. Trucy takes it with a quiet thanks.
“Daddy sicced you on me, didn’t he?”
Miles sighs, hating the fact he can’t deny. “He has openly shown concern about your well being. Concern I fully share and sustain and which take priority over everything else.” he pointedly adds when Trucy looks about to start apologizing. “I do not mind. He’s just extremely frustrated he can’t be here for you personally now that you need him.”
“Typical Daddy, always getting way too worked up over every little thing.” she laughs quiveringly. She looks and sounds like she has just come down with a severe head cold. “He’s worried sick, isn’t he? It’s always like this with him, he’s going to give himself an ulcer if he keeps this up.”
“He cares for you deeply. As do I.”
She sniffles, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Silence befalls upon them, broken only by Trucy’s rapidly subsiding sniffs and hiccups.
“Have you been treated well, Trucy?” Miles asks after a little while, scanning Trucy’s lithe frame in search for bruised or suspicious marks that could have resulted from an entirely unnecessary rough manhandling. Trucy shrugs and smiles again, this time a lot more brightly.
“Yep, I’ve been treated with gloves. Wasn’t expecting that kind of treatment in prison, to be honest. Questioning aside, it’s almost like staying in an hotel. Everyone is just so kind to me, the cell is spotless clean and a lot more spacious than my sleeping arrangement used to be back when Daddy and I lived at the Agency.”
Miles is definitely going to make sure she gets her sojourn in a proper five-star hotel as soon as possible.
“Good,”
She chuckles to herself. “That was your doing, right?”
She has a knack to spot the truth on people’s faces, Trucy. She could be a brilliant lawyer if she so wished to.
“I’ll only say it would be rather… ill-advised… for a member of the staff to show unnecessary forceful behavior towards you at the moment. It’s salary evaluation period.”
Trucy laughs again, thoroughly entertained by this little stunt of his. Miles lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he’s been holding, the awkward, emotionally charged tension finally dissipating. He could almost pretend they were at home, chatting pleasantly while waiting for Phoenix to come back from work, were it not for the metallic counter digging uncomfortably against his back.
“So I’m Miss Trucy Edgeworth for a day? That’s sweet! It’s like being a princess! Tell you what, can I take up your name as well, once I’m out of here? Trucy Wright-Edgeworth… it sounds so awesome!”
Miles’s heart all but stops. It is a scenario he has never truly dared to entertain, too potentially dangerous to even consider. He has always thought the Edgeworth line would die with him, and now Trucy is drawing this enticing scenario in his mind, a single, perfect solution...
But Trucy has her own legacies to uphold. As wonderful as the name sounds, especially paired up with Wright’s, he isn’t going to burden her with another heavy name to bear, when she already has to carry so much on her shoulders.
He closes his eyes and smirks, crossing his arms and tapping his arm with a finger.
“I suppose that would open many doors for you. Clever, young lady.”
Except it really wouldn’t. Not for her, who has shown no desire to take up law studies. She would gain literally nothing from taking his name. Quite the opposite, she would be liable to unfounded badgering and prejudice. She doesn’t deserve this.
Trucy’s grin dims, soon replaced by a steely, determined expression that reminds Miles too much of Phoenix to be comfortable with.
“I don’t want it for that reason. I just want to carry the name of my two dads. Is it so much to ask? And your eyes lit up for a split second earlier, don’t deny.”
Good grief, no matter the generation, he’s going to never be able to defeat the Wrights and their peculiar turnabouts out of left field. He frowns and averts his eyes, but it’s useless, for she has already seen through him.
“You already have enough on your plate as it is, Trucy. Just worry about getting out of here as soon as possible.”
Trucy pouts. If Miles were the type of man to be swayed by puppy eyes, he would have already caved in. It takes an unexpected amount of effort to keep a stern face. And even then, he’s fairly sure he must show signs of melting, because she wastes no time to attack, striking right where it hurts.
“My biological family name is what got me in here to begin with, and my first father left me behind, alone in a courthouse, for the sake of it. Daddy brought me home from the courthouse, and you went as far as come to visit me in the Detention Center, as in inside it. Whose name do you think I’m more proud of? We could be a real, true family in all senses.”
She sure picked up some tricks from her lawyer friends and family members. And they are extremely effective, for Miles is reduced absolutely speechless for at least thirty seconds, too moved to be able to form words. Many defense attorneys, and lots of them vastly older than she is and so much more experienced, would pay to be able to boast about such an accomplishment.
With a triumphant smirk that is just too familiar, she props herself up and sits on the counter beside him - Miles has half a mind to berate her for this behavior, but then gives up. Everything about this is completely out of ordinary rules, and she’s not even supposed to be here at all - so that they are now at the same level. She swings her legs back and forth playfully, waiting.
Miles takes a little longer than he thought he would to recover from the shock.
“We’ll think about it. If you really wish so-”
“I do!!”
“-I’ll speak with your father about it.”
Trucy rolls her eyes, “What, do you think he’s gonna claim Daddy rights? He can’t wait for you to do something to acknowledge we’re a family as strong - if not stronger - than any other.”
That is indeed a very Wright way to look at the matter. Miles can’t deny the prospect is enticing, at the very least.
“We have more urgent matters to attend to, now,” he says, making it clear this discussion is over, without objection, “Namely, your trial tomorrow.”
Trucy grimaces. Miles ignores it and presses on. “I also heard about the seize of your Agency.”
“Ugh, that!” Trucy huffs. “That’s possibly the worst thing about this, right after the thought I might have blood on my hands. I don’t know how I’ll forgive myself if they get to take the Agency. Daddy has spent so much time in there, it means everything to him! They even seized Charley!”
Miles can tell Trucy is again growing distressed. He steps in before she can lose her head. “Calm down and think logically. Do you remember ever signing such a ridiculous contract?”
“No, I don’t!” Trucy wails, pulling viciously at a stray lock of chestnut brown hair. “I would have never accepted! And I was careful to read every single little term! I mean, you and Daddy are lawyers, and so are Polly and Thena, I actually have learned something from constantly hanging out with you lot.”
Miles carefully avoids pointing out both he and Wright deal with criminal cases, rather than civilian debates. He instead pulls her hand away and frees the abused lock of hair from her grip.
“Either case, the contract seems to state the seize will take place only if you’re proven to be the directly responsible for the show to be cancelled. As soon as Mr. Justice undoubtedly clears you of the murder charge, the claim will fall as well.”
Trucy brightened up instantly at those magic words. “Oh my goodness, really? Then there’s a chance not everything is lost yet!!”
Before he can react, Trucy has again thrown her arms around his neck, nearly choking him in her unbridled relief.
“Yes, quite,” Miles chokes out, patting her shoulder stiffly. “Trucy, if you will-?”
“Oh, sorry, there” she lets him go, sticking her tongue out with a cheeky smile. He takes a deep breath and readjust his cravat.
“Yes, well. Don’t despair just yet. The truth will soon be uncovered tomorrow for all to see.”
She giggles, but does not reply. Suddenly, the heavy, armored door is opened again and the same tall, nervous looking guard peeks in.
“Sir, I hate to be saying this, but-”
“Quiet.” Miles orders sternly, leveling one of the best glares of his repertoire on the man. The guard yelps as though stabbed to death and disappears out of the room again. Trucy laughs quietly.
“Whoa, that was cold. Poor guy is just trying to do his job. You shouldn’t bully him for me.” she gracefully slides down the counter in a flutter of blue cape and chiming bells. “Although it was rather cool to see. I need to learn to do that trick too.”
Miles smirks. He will deny it till the end of time, but he did that for this exact purpose. “It’s going to take quite some time, I warn you.”
“But I’ve got the best teacher, right?” she smoothly replies with a wink.
“We’ll initiate your training as soon as you’re out of here.” he says as he slowly leads the way up to the door behind which the man has cowered away. He opens it and lets Trucy go through it first, not without a little bow. He’s still a gentleman. “I’m not going to go easy on you.”
“Nor I want you to!” she laughs loudly. The guard is still there, watching them warily, as though ready to bolt away for his life if Miles did so much as look at him. “Where’s the challenge then?”
“True.”
They fall silent. Miles would give every penny he has to bail her out of here right now. He can hardly stand the sight of the man who is going to lead her back to the cell at any given moment.
To take his daughter away. His and Phoenix’s daughter. Their pride and joy.
Unforgivable. He makes a mental note to personally prosecute the real culprit of this heinous crime as soon as they are exposed. He is definitely going to see they are given their fair sentence.
“Hey, Papa,” Trucy says finally. “Thank you for coming all the way here to visit me, even with how busy you are. It… means really a lot.”
She hugs him a last time, quickly letting go. He is so upset that she’s going to be spending the night in a cell that he lets her, even though the guard is still there and the man’s eyes are wide as saucers, probably wondering what the hell is going on. Miles finds out he doesn’t care about there being an eyewitness to one of his rare moments of emotiveness.
“Hold on tight,” he says, throat suspiciously thick and bitter. “We are undoubtedly going to get you out.”
She beams at him with that disarming smile of hers. “Of course. I’m a Wright-Edgeworth! I’m not going down so easily!”
She tips her hat at him with a knowing grin as Miles’s treacherous heart yet again skips a beat at the sound. “True.”
She smiles broadly. “Will you come to the trial tomorrow?”
He has been wondering about that. Logically he should attend, to personally follow the proceedings as they unfold and make sure there is no foul play involved on both Prosecution and Defense’s parts. On the other hand, he has serious doubts on whether he’d be able to see Trucy on the stand. If today’s conversation is anything to go by, he might end up having quite violent emotional outbursts. He is getting too old for this kind of emotional storm.
“I’ll do my best to attend,” he forces himself to say when he reasons she might want at least one parent present, for moral support at least, and that Phoenix is sure to demand a detailed recount of the events.
“That’s alright.” she says with a shrug, then brightens up, suddenly impish. “I’ll try to put on a good show!”
“Please, don’t.”
“Aw, Papa is no fun!”
But she’s laughing. Miles finds himself smiling back.
“Ahem!” the guard calls again. So he does have a spine, after all. Trucy jolts as though burned.
“Welp, gotta go. Tomorrow is show time! See ya, Papa!”
“I’ll come by to pick you up and bring you home as soon as you are released. Please send me a text when you’re finished.” he calls after her as she hurries to amiably follow the guard back to her cell.
Trucy spins on the spot, walking backwards for a few moments. She flashes him a thumbs-up and a smile that easily puts the sun to shame.
A moment later she’s gone, disappeared behind a corner. There is a ravaging sense of loss opening up like a deep rift into his chest as the last zig-zagged trails of her cape fade behind the armored wall. It’s a deep, throbbing pain, the kinds of which keep grow and grow until they swallow everything else.
By the time he is out of the Detention Center, he’s already completely lost in it. How is Phoenix able to feel emotions such as these and stay sane at all? He just can’t make heads or tails of this emotional turmoil shredding him into pieces from within.
One thing he knows, and he holds tightly onto that one pillar of certainty to anchor himself down.
Whoever dares to lift a finger on his family is going to regret they were born altogether.