A day that had started like any other.

The Prosecutor's Office and the Police Department were having a celebration of the "King of Prosecutors" award, which had been won by my dear friend, Neil Marshall. Gant and I had our picture taken with him, and after it was done, Neil flashed that roguish grin of his to me and gave me a gigantic hug and his thanks. When I asked him what for, he only smiled and said,

"For everything."

I was confused. What on earth was that for…? Neil just tipped his hat and winked at me, then headed off to bother his older brother. After the party, we went back to work as we were supposed to, and I promised Ema that I would take her out for dinner. With an adorable smile, she ran to my office to finish her homework. I went down to the precinct to help Goodman, Jake, and Starr process the reports about the Joe Darke killings, and Neil, fired up by his success, accompanied Gant to question the killer himself.


Blackout.


The lights went off and the power went out as a crack of lightning lit up the sky, and the entire building locked down. Gant wasn't answering his phone, and I realized that Ema was in danger all by herself. Swearing under my breath, I ran up the stairs to the office I shared jointly with Gant and found a nightmare.

There were bodies on the ground…one was Darke, who must have taken advantage of the blackout and escaped…and one of them was Ema.

Without even thinking, I ran to her and thankfully, she was still alive—but she was unconscious. I rushed her from the scene and just held her in my arms outside the door, afraid to let go. But something still didn't seem right. I laid Ema down and nearly flew back into the office…

…Neil.

My friend stood eerily still in the darkness, his head bowed. With a cry, I went to his side and discovered that he had been impaled on the suit of armor. I shook him, calling his name, begging him to wake up, wake up, please…but I already knew he was dead. One look at the blood pouring from his mouth and his ruined chest told me everything.

Those laughing amber eyes, that ever-present smile…they lay cold and silent now. Never again would Neil poke fun at me, or wrestle with Jake during briefings, or pat my sister on the head and give her a Deputy's Badge from his pocket. He was gone…

Shaking, I pulled a camera from my bag and took a picture of the ghastly scene for reference—and then it hit me: based on where I had found Ema, there must have been a fight, and Neil ran to my sister's rescue. When the power went out, she must have confused him for her assailant and accidentally pushed him to his death…!

I froze.


There was no way that Ema could have been a killer…! And to have taken Neil's life? I couldn't find an explanation, and I dropped to my knees in front of Neil's body, holding my head in my hands.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and whirled around, expecting it to be Darke, coming to finish the job. But instead, it was the face of Damon Gant, my partner and my helpmeet. He'd figured out the same conclusion as I did…and I begged him to help me save Ema.

He looked off, and I pleaded with him; this, I offered, could be the chance to catch Darke once and for all—there was enough evidence here, and the prosecutor who took over the case could pin it on him. I was desperately grasping at straws with my head in my hands. Gant paused, and I feared that all was lost. But with a nod, he agreed, but he placed a condition: I had to obey his every order, no questions asked. For Ema's sake, I accepted his offer, promising anything in return.

"Anything?" he asked me, his cold green eyes flickering with sudden interest, and…was that a hint of amusement…?

That was the instant that Lana Skye had ceased to exist.

He told me to destroy the evidence, and in that pitch darkness, I broke the unstable jar into pieces, rubbing off whatever blood I could see. He then asked me to drag Darke's unconscious body across the room to my side of the office, and I thought that this was slightly odd, but I complied. What other choice did I have? Then, I noticed Gant lifting Neil's immobile form from the armor; the sound of metal pulling through flesh—Neil's flesh—made me want to vomit. But Gant carried him tenderly, I noticed, and my heart shattered just like that jar. Together, we placed Neil's body on top of Darke, and I silently apologized to him, over and over.

Gant then bent down and picked up Darke's discarded knife, breaking off the tip; he handed it to me expectantly, and told me to place it deep within Neil's wound. I…I couldn't do it, and Gant grabbed me, wrapping his arms tightly around my neck, whispering that I belonged to him now, and that each order must be obeyed. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ears to emphasize his point.

I understood then and there just what he wanted from me.

I shed the last of my tears for two long years as I caused more injury to my dear friend. If he were alive, he would never forgive me for what I'd done; the truth meant more to him than anything. He was an honest man and always fought to keep the weak and small safe…and I betrayed him.

After Ema was safely sent to the hospital—Gant ordered me not to see her for the rest of the day—I stood up ramrod straight and forced myself to feel nothing. I was as still as a stone when Angel Starr turned in her badge, looking at me with not the admiration she'd once felt, but hatred. I couldn't even cry at Neil's funeral, nor could I find the tears when Jake begged me to talk to him. Even Edgeworth, the young prosecutor who took over the case, noticed something was wrong.

I shut everyone out, including Ema. I hurt her more than I ever thought humanly possible, and I thought she would never forgive me. That was all right with me…as long as she was safe, I didn't care.


For two agonizing years, I danced on puppet strings, dangling ever-closer to the noose Gant was preparing for me.

…and when Jake asked me to look him in the eye after all that time and tell him that I hadn't done what I did, something else broke within me.