Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight at all. It belongs completely to Stephenie Meyer, and I am finally willing to admit that. ;D

A/N: Haha, well. I'm not exactly sure where the inspiration for this story came from, but I'm willing to admit it's probably not been done before, so I'm guessing that's a good thing, right? In the end, though, I really do love this idea and this story. I'd love to get your opinions -- nay or yay? I really do love feedback, and since I'm not too sure on this myself, it'd be great to get another point of view. Is it worth continuing?

Obviously, you should read and see for yourself. :) Drop me a review at the end, please!

I knew, to some extent, that I must be crazy. I knew, to some extent, that this case was going to be near impossible to crack, if there was even more than the obvious. I even knew, to some extent, that my client may very well be guilty. I had taken plenty of cases just as this one, however, and I also knew, to full extent, that I had to do what I could. In the end, it all bubbled down to a single point of reason, and that was the point I was listening to now as I made my way toward the room I would converse with my newest client.

I am a defense lawyer. My job is to protect innocents from being wrongly punished for crimes they have not committed, and it is also to find the truth in a situation that might once seem to be one sided. While I do not always gain win my cases – nor do I want to, if the man or woman I have defended is truly guilty – I always do what I can. If someone is innocent, they deserve the chance for such to be proven. If someone is innocent, I believe the truth comes out, eventually. It all comes to a single point.

In the end, my client can be guilty. They might have committed the crime that they have been accused of, and I have come to accept that. While I can't get a not guilty verdict for everyone who hires me – and again, nor do I want to – I will always do my best to prove that they have not done the deed. In the end, I believe in each and every single client that I work for. In the end, I truly wish to believe that they are innocents.

We as humans are often in the wrong place at the wrong time, it is just a simple fact. We do things that we are not sure of, and sometimes even the truth to us can be blurred by the lies of others. I do believe that everyone deserves a chance to be listened to, and everyone deserves a second chance. Bad decisions can be made, but in the end, it all comes to a single point.

I, Bella Swan, have learned this through personal experience. I, Bella Swan, have done my best to do what I can with the clients I have taken. I, Bella Swan, also went into this case knowing that there was a very, very good chance I would lose. Hell, part of me had counted on it.

Edward Cullen was a very well known man, and not for good reasons at all. Over the years he had become a well known criminal, but never had there been enough evidence against him to prove this. Over and over he had been accused and then let go, and so, this case was considered a matter of pride for the police. If he was finally proven guilty, it would seem like a personal gain for them, a one up, like this man's life was someone else's game. It truly disgusted me.

When he had asked me to defend him in court, I had gotten the feeling that he already knew I was going to refuse. After all, every other lawyer in the area – and beyond that, to be honest – would. I think most of them had, because I wasn't stupid enough to think I was his first choice, though I certainly couldn't be his last (maybe that was just my small ego speaking, though). The case seemed impossible, the evidence conclusive, the single witness making the entire situation air tight.

When I spoke to him, though, his voice was the thing that caught my attention. He could only speak for a moment or two, but there was just something in the way he spoke. His voice had this velvet tint in it, husky somehow, deep. He sounded honest. He sounded like a beaten man who hadn't gotten a break in life, even though I knew this was just me overanalyzing. I tended to over-think things, more often than not. I believe, even though I knew it was insane to, that he had not committed the crime had been accused of. I believed that, though he was rough around the edges and certainly not an innocent person, he deserved his second chance.

If he got his not guilty verdict, however, it would not be that simple. I was determined, somehow, to help him. I didn't know why this case spoke to me, but all of it just led up to this single inkling of hope I had. I always wanted to believe that these accused did not do what they were being charged for, paint me naïve. I could tell when a man or woman was honest when they told me they had not done it … but all of my clients, of course, claimed they hadn't. I wasn't right all of the time, and I couldn't be. However, today I would find if my client had truly committed the crime against him.

If he had and I knew it, I would still defend him. I would do what I could, but I believe in the end the truth will come out. I will work with the evidence and the testimony that I have, but I do believe that it will be difficult if he is guilty. If he is guilty, eventually it will come out. That is how I worked. I will do whatever I can in my ability to give him his second chance – if he truly deserves it, my belief is that he will get it.

"I'm here to see Edward Cullen," I murmured as I made my way into the small room we would be meeting, however heavily guarded. The man I stood in front of simply nodding, giving me the look I had seen multiple times this week. He looked at me as if I was off my rocker, losing my mind, and to an extent I did not disagree that I was a bit insane. That, I mused, or simply much too innocent for my own good. Too trusting, my friend had once told me. I suppose that was just part of who I was.

"Edward Cullen." I smiled at him as I made my way into the room and took a seat across from him, a very wide amount of space between us. When he looked up to meet my gaze, though, I had to fight the urge to gasp. This man did not look anything like I had expected, even though I was sure I had seen a picture or two in a paper, on television.

This man did not look like a criminal, not in the slightest, though I had worked in the law long enough to know that looks were very often deceiving. His eyes were this beautiful, deep green color, like emeralds that had been cut to perfection. His eyes were framed with these thick lashes, his cheekbones high, his jaw strong. His face was proud, though his spirit looked beaten. Though I wished it wasn't, my first thought was that he was beautiful. How he managed to gain the reputation and the life he now had was beyond me, but his voice – the honest, velvet sounding voice I had heard on the phone – interrupted my current, inane train of thought.

"Miss Swan," he returned curtly, a bit condescendingly, a smirk curling its way onto his lips as he leaned back in his chair. He was the picture of ease there, but for some reason, I had a feeling he was anything but on the inside. Just like every other client I had – but this one, for some reason, in particular – I wanted to know what made him tick. I longed to figure him out, to find out how he managed to get himself into this terrible situation.

"Well, Mr. Cullen," I spoke smoothly, fighting to keep my voice steady as I smoothed out the papers in front of me unnecessarily, "It seems you have quite the case against you. People are talking, you know. People are very happy that they've finally got you, or so they say." I breathed that out with a bit of frustration, remembering very well the criticism I had gotten when news spread about my decision to take his case.

"Oh, I know," he murmured off-handedly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was of no matter. He looked truly unaffected, and for a moment, I bought right into his little lie. His eyes told me different, though. I saw that little flicker I saw in every single client I had taken, and the thought made me inwardly triumphant. Despite what he may be thinking, I knew better. There was more to this Edward than truly met the naked eye, and I longed to find what that was. "I guess it makes sense. I'm not a very nice man."

I resisted the urge to scoff at the comment, knowing that was either a very convincing lie or the complete truth and an understatement. I fought to keep my thoughts straight, clearing my throat easily and shuffling through the papers, looking down to distract myself. Now came the easiest part of all the meetings we would have, and the one that I dreaded the most.

I looked up until I had caught those gorgeous green eyes, my face suddenly serious. I knew he reacted to my mood, or at least I imagined it as he stiffened a bit where he sat. "Mr. Cullen, I have one question for you at the moment," I spoke simply, waiting for his response.

"Proceed."

"Did you or did you not murder Tanya Denali?"

There was a pause as I waited, folding my hands on the table in front of me, waiting anxiously for his answer.

A man that beautiful couldn't possibly –

"I did."