"Diego, someone really should go with you…"
"Kitten, I'll be fine." Diego stands in front of me smiling, the same smile he always wears when he knows he's right.
Mr. Grossberg takes out a small pad of paper, writes some numbers on it, and hands it to Diego. "Call me if anything goes wrong, okay? Dahlia Hawthorne is not to be messed with, Diego. She's a murderer and a thief and liar. And you're an Attorney."
"I realize that. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to be late." He pushes past me, pulling on a lock of my hair playfully.
"Diego… Mr. Grossberg, he'll be okay, won't he?"
"I hope so, Mia. I hope so." I grab some of the court records I need to put away and walk to the file room. Usually this is my favorite job, but today, I can't focus. I may have left the Kurain Village years ago, but I can still tell when something bad's going to happen. Dropping the records onto the nearest table, I grab my coat and dash outside.
"I'll be back soon, Mr. Grossberg!"
"Mia! Wait!" But I'm already gone, running down the road to the courthouse where Dahlia and Diego are meeting.
Once downstairs, I scan the room quickly for them. Diego is wearing a red shirt, so it shouldn't be too hard to spot him. Especially with his crazy black hair. But it's no use.
They must be in a private room, I think, trying to calm myself down.
But all of the rooms I check are empty, and there's only one left. "Diego?" I ask, slowly opening the door. The smell of coffee and the sound of soft jazz music fill the room, and I immediately know that I've found the right room. But the second I take a step in, my foot hits something soft, and I flip on the light. Diego is lying on the ground on his back, one of his hands behind his head like he's sleeping.
"D-Diego? Diego, please wake up, Where's Dahlia?" I gently shake him, but there's obviously something wrong. He wouldn't leave any coffee in his cup before taking a nap, and his phone is still ringing.
"It's not funny anymore, Diego." I whisper, tears in my eyes.
"OH MY GOD IS HE DEAD?!" Someone screams behind me. I can hear people scrambling to get a glimpse of Diego and me, yelling at the younger lawyers to call the police.
"No... Please…" I kneel next to him, cradling his head in my hands. "Diego please, you're not dead. You can't be"
"Honey, why don't you back up a little?"
"NO! GET AWAY FROM ME! ONE OF YOU PROBABLY KILLED HIM!" I stand up and claw at the hand on my wrist.
"Ms. Fey? Please take a deep breathe. You aren't helping Mr. Armando any by freaking out." Prosecutor Edgeworth steps up and sets a hand on my shoulder, crouching down where I was only a second ago. He checks for a pulse, then runs his finger along the edge of the coffee cup and smells it.
"Poison… Mia, come with me."
"But what about Diego?"
"You'll see him later." He's lying, I'm sure of it, but my thoughts are too scrambled to realize it immediately.
"Oh. Okay…" I let him lead me out of the room, glancing back at Diego's body on the floor.
No, that's not right, he's still Diego. I correct myself. Not just a body.
"Mia, Mr. Armando met with Dahlia Hawthorne today didn't he?"
"Yes. Why are you calling me Mia?"
"Is it bothering you?"
"No." I say, confused that it's the truth.
"Did he go alone?"
It takes me a moment to realize that he's talking about Diego again.
"Yes, he did. He was so sure he'd be okay…" I burst into tears again, remembering him just lying there, not moving. Prosecutor Edgeworth pulls me over to him, wrapping me in a hug.
"It's okay, Mia. It's okay. It'll all be okay…" We stay like that for a while longer, me crying and him reassuring me. I don't believe a word that comes out of his mouth, but it helps anyways.
The funeral is small, since Diego's parents died when he was little. Prosecutor Edgeworth shows up, staying by my side the whole time. It reminds me of Diego, since he was always protecting me from whatever might happen.
I cry myself to sleep that night, knowing that tomorrow will be a long day. The next morning everyone is silent. There's no one cracking jokes, or drinking coffee, or pulling on my hair, or telling me that I'd better watch my back or the big bad Prosecutors are going to steal my "not guilty" verdicts. Diego's office is completely empty, having been cleared out after he died.
Lunchtime is no better. Every time I ask Mr. Grossberg a question, he pauses before answering like he's expecting Diego to make some sarcastic comment. It turns out that working today was a horrible idea, so everyone goes home early. I head to my office to grab my bag, and am shocked to see a perfectly white coffee mug sitting on Diego's old desk.
"Hello?" I ask nervously, pushing open the door. "Is anyone here?" It appears to be empty, so I pick up the cup and read the bottom.
I never got to say sorry. You were a great rival, and all of the Prosecutors respected you. Maybe someday a Spirit Medium will channel you, and I'll be able to apologize properly.
But until then, this is Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, saying that I am sorry.
I sit on the floor, arms curled around the mug, crying openly. Diego affected so many people in good ways; it's hard to believe that I hated him when I first got here.
"Mia? You really shouldn't be here alone, you know." Prosecutor Edgeworth is standing in the door way, watching me rock back and forth on the floor. He sits down next to me and drapes an arm around my shoulders. I lean into him the same way I did the day Diego died, and we stay there together, crying and talking about our favorite memories.