I hate the Borscht Bowl. It's freezing cold and – have you ever tried borscht?

Without my unbroken poker win streak, I am nothing – and in this empty, meaningless game, it's actually true. Oh, Edgeworth… please understand nobody's lives are at stake except mine and Trucy's… I hope. That's why I hope it doesn't matter that I don't even care anymore how much I use Trucy to cheat. I even feel like I've won, like it's a legitimate part of the game. Trucy probably just thinks it's a magic trick.

All just another part of the fake.

I'll use Trucy as collateral, exploit her on my behalf when I'm supposedly her legal guardian…

But I could never exploit her. Never.

I willingly risk Trucy and my life and safety by continuing to meet with Kristoph, but I could never let Maya risk herself that way now?

I'm a sick, sick man.

They knew who I was here. They hired me on my reputation. My criminal reputation. There's all kinds of illegal betting rings and who knows what else here. I try to turn a blind eye. "Daddy played here all the time," offered Trucy when she decided it was a good place for me to find a job. It makes sense that maybe he'll turn up here one day.

Trucy keeps me sane. Only around her can I be something resembling myself. But even then, I can only ever reveal a subset of my true feelings. I can't upset her. I can't reveal my problems. I can't show her my pain. I have to attempt to obscure at least some of my faults. We have a close connection, and it's far more of a mutual support partnership than I'm sure most real fathers have with their daughters. But we just can't be unspoken and accepting equals in the way that… that…

I know it's dysfunctional, the way Trucy is allowed to also look after me, and I know if I was a responsible parent, I'd try harder to stop it. But I can't. And I'm fully aware of what – who – I'm compensating for here.

#####

We've been watching some movie one night in Maya's room, and as the credits finish their final roll, I can't help feeling a little upset. Not that the movie itself was good (it most certainly wasn't!) but we've gotten a little too comfortable nestled together on her bed.

"Stay with me," she begs. "As a 'sleepover'," she clarifies, her slightly teasing eyes throwing an impression she recalls every detail of that night as intricately as I do. "I just want to cuddle."

I relax. Since Maya's so clear she wants nothing else, rather than miring this in ambiguity, it will be easy to suppress any desires or miscommunications in doing anything else – the dual terrors of 'losing Maya' and 'hurting Maya' can override even my most basal of instincts. She wraps her arms around me affectionately, and soon we've melted against each others' bodies as relaxed as if we've done this every night of our lives.

It's like we never left the law office days - but not.

The physical proximity seems to compensate - but in a different way - to the time and distance we've since had in our lives.

But the conversation and connection flow as naturally, even when eventually turning to weightier topics (and physical contact) than were our common chatter back then.

Maya details some long and involved problem involving those dirty Kurain politics and all kinds of weird spirit-channelling related business. (It's sadly clear to me what she really needs is some practicing lawyer or some kind of high profile respected supporter to stand in unity with her in the Kurain boardroom.)

Damn it, why can't I help her, instead of being a dead weight back in the city? (Oh, because I'd be even more of a liability here.) All my suggestions are hopeless and go no way to fixing her problem, but Maya's eyes light up. "Thanks, Nick!" she beams, and squeezes me enthusiastically. I feel guilty. "What? But everything I said is hopeless! None of it will work and.."

"I know," Maya cuts me off. "It is sort of stupid. But the way you freaked out – I know you care!"

It hurts a little to remember the days when we really could solve the problems and injustices which threatened to part us. Now the problems which force us apart are too huge for either of us to solve. Now we're of no practical use to each other. But as the night wears on, and we draw gradually closer, one thing is beginning to become poignant. We could still need each other to cope.

We eventually sleep tangled and intertwined in the way only the most incestuous of 'cousins' ever will.