[October 19th, 8:43 am, District Court-Defendant Lobby No. 4]

Robin LeBlanc was reexamining his notes carefully as he heard footfalls behind him. He was no more prepared for this trial than any of his previous cases, but the question this time was even more complicated, so to say he was feeling pressured by the circumstances would be a significant understatement. He had his head so firmly engrossed in reevaluations of the curt statements given by Morgan's friends that he didn't hear the girl herself approach and sit down in front of him. He was still considering Inigo's mention of the rumors surrounding Ewan when Eirika Verlaine joined her adopted daughter.

"Mr. LeBlanc," she said in a shrill, striking sort of way to grab his attention.

The attorney's head rose snappily, "Huh?! Oh, Ms. Verlaine… and Morgan. Good to see you both."

Eirika's expression told him the feeling was not mutual. "How are things looking? Regarding the trial, I mean," she asked.

"It's early," Robin replied, trying to throw her off.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eirika frowned.

Robin broadened his shoulders and squared himself before her, extending his arm to suggest the confidence he knew his words were sorely lacking, "It means it's hard to know anything before the trial has even started. I have all the information I need, but I can't be confident about anything that will happen in the courtroom until things start moving."

"I guess that makes sense," the young woman's aqua hair drooped in front of her face as she bowed her head, looking at her legs.

"I'm not worried." Robin had failed to notice, but now he saw that Morgan's eyes were starry, beaming back at him like she was meeting her favorite actor face-to-face. "One of the guards let me watch the tapes of Mr. LeBlanc's last two trials," she explained, "They were amazing! The way Mr. LeBlanc takes all of that stuff and turns it all on its head, and all the shocked faces in the courtroom—wow! It was like a real-life courtroom drama!"

Robin smiled, but Eirika remained unimpressed, "Well, we don't need any drama today, we just need a 'not guilty' verdict asap."

"But it was cool," Morgan continued.

"I appreciate you saying so, Morgan," Robin sighed, "but your mom's right: the best thing we can do is get this over with and get you acquitted quickly."

"You're going to find out who did it, too, aren't you?" the little girl asked.

"That's not necessarily in my job description," he rubbed the back of his neck.

"But you always do!" she protested, pouting, "You have to find out who really hurt Ewan! Someone deserves to answer for that crime, and you have to figure out who, or… or… I'll never forgive you!"

For someone so young, she sure is demanding. Not to mention, her expectations are a little high. Robin sighed and shrugged at her, "I can't make promises about that sort of thing, Morgan, but I can promise that I'll do my best to get this whole mess figured out."

"Oh, and don't be mean to my friends."

"Your friends?"

"Yeah, the police officer who brought me in here said they all might end up as witnesses, so I wanted to tell you not to be mean to them, like you were to that one guy… uh, the fat one. Please don't do that to any of my friends."

"I'll try, but I might have to be a little mean to them in order to make sure they're telling the whole truth, so that you get declared innocent, you know?"

"I guess… Please at least take it easy?"

"I can do that."

"Thank you, Mr. LeBlanc."

"No problem. By the way, Morgan, this'll probably be our last chance to talk privately before the trial, so, I wanted to ask, is there anything more you want to tell me or that you think might be important?"

She pressed her index finger to her cheek and cocked her head to the side, "Um, I don't think so."

"You don't have any idea why they might think you wanted to kill Ewan?" the attorney wondered.

Morgan's lips parted to speak, but she lowered her head and closed them, "No. Everything was… fine. There was no reason for it to be a problem."

"For what to be a problem?"

"Ah. Um, my relationship with Ewan, I mean. We were friends, on good terms and all, you know."

"I see."

They heard the footsteps of a police officer approaching, who extended a hand clutching a pair of handcuffs to Morgan, "Sorry, but the trial will be starting soon. We need to process the defendant."

Robin LeBlanc nodded and watched as the girl's hands were held together and slapped into the handcuffs before being led off. He couldn't help but frown as he watched her eyes glimmer, reflecting the overhead lights, before being walked out of the room. The attorney faced Eirika Verlaine, who was looking similarly distressed, pursing her lips at the disappearing back of the girl. "It's a terrible shame what they're doing to her," Eirika sighed, "The kind of thing dad would've never stood for."

"True enough," Robin agreed, "Fado wouldn't let anyone be in that bad of shape before sitting through a trial. I wish I knew how he consoled them…"

"Not just that," the aqua-haired woman noted, "they're making the poor girl sit trial in front of all her friends. I mean, they may not all be called as witnesses, but every one of them made a statement. Do you think they'll always look at her differently after this, knowing that they all spoke against her in some way, thinking she might've killed one of their mutual friends?"

Robin blinked a few times, feeling a distinct unsettled shake in the pit of his stomach. He decided he'd rather not answer the question.

It didn't matter, because Eirika elected to change the subject anyway, "So, you worked with my dad… what would he do at this stage of the game?"

Robin took a moment to imagine Fado Verlaine strutting into the courthouse, his square brow locking his eyes into sharp determination, the flow of the loose corners of his olive suit and the subtle professionalism that oozed out of every fiber of his wide wine-colored tie. In those days, Robin would look up at him with his sharp jaw enclosed by the softness of his beard, and within moments, Fado would begin to explain their strategy. Fado's approach was ever that of rationality: it was important, he had noted, to bear in mind the exact letters of the law, and to never jump onto a line of questioning just because it looked convenient. There had to be a particular meaning behind every word a person said, Robin remembered him explaining; when you know why a person has said something, only then can you begin to understand what they've really said. Robin had responded that that sounded backward, and that it was impossible to know what motivated someone to say something before they said it. Fado let out a booming laugh and slapped his student on the back, agreeing, but saying he'd meant his advice metaphorically, as a way to think about what had been said, rather than simply taking words at face value. To this day, Robin was having trouble putting the lesson into practice.

He returned to the present moment as Eirika was snapping her fingers at him, "Hello? Worried client wondering what you're planning to do, here."

"S-Sorry," he stammered, shaking his head, "Uh, well, since this is the first trial, the best thing we can do to start is learn all we can about the investigation. Once we figure that out, we can start to throw their theories back at them with any contradicting evidence we find."

"And then what?" she arched her eyebrows expectantly.

Robin looked to each side, "Er, that's it. That's as much as I can plan for now."

Eirika's eyebrows remained in the same position, but before she could remark upon anything, the bailiff called to them, "The trial is about to begin. Will Mr. LeBlanc please enter?"

Robin picked up his things and gave a quick nod to Eirika, who gave him a reciprocally lukewarm gesture, and the attorney entered the courtroom.

[October 19th, 9:02 am, District Court-Courtroom No. 4]

Stirrings and murmurs in the court came to a halt as the judge rapped his gavel a few times and called for order. All eyes turned forward to face the gray-bearded man as he cleared his throat. "Thank you," he said, "this court will now come to order for the trial of Ms. Morgan Cassidy. Bailiff, would you please bring the defendant to the stand?"

The bailiff complied and took the handcuffed girl by the arm up to the witness stand. The judge looked at her from across his desk and put on a pair of small glasses that sat near the end of his nose. "It pains me to see one so young accused of so heinous a crime," he said.

"Truly a despairing fact, Your Honor," a deep voice cut across the courtroom, "the culture of this nation's youth is a sad sight to behold at times. Far have we strayed from the glorious days of our heritage, when our world was held together by pillars of polite society like King Marth."

Robin grimaced as he saw Lloyd Reed standing across from him, eyes shut and arms folded.

"Truer words were scarcely ever said," concurred the judge.

"In the vein of despairing youths," the prosecutor continued, "Mr. LeBlanc, I'm surprised to see you again so soon. It seems the rank of villainy never wafts far from your nose."

"O-Objection!" Robin shouted, "I ask the prosecution to refrain from making personal attacks regarding my nose and the sort of wafts it experiences."

"Noted, Mr. LeBlanc," said the judge, "Mr. Reed, I assume your presence here today means you have a concise opening statement prepared for the court."

"Indeed," Lloyd Reed bowed his head just slightly, "Ladies and gentlemen of the court, you look upon a young lady who is charged with two great crimes, one belying the other: this young woman, Morgan Cassidy, stands accused of murder, the deprivation of a similarly-aged boy of his very life. What's more, however, is that this Ms. Cassidy has sunken so low as to murder not any man, not someone who wronged her ages ago and upon whom she swore vengeance, but upon one of her own friends. Yes, a young man who thought he could confide in and be comfortable around the young lady you now look upon, that is who she chose to kill. The prosecution hopes that the defendant is aware that it is said that traitors are banished to the lowest circle of hell."

Morgan's face squeezed, her cheeks and eyes going tense.

"Objection!" Robin shouted, "Y-Your Honor, surely it's out of line for the prosecution to threaten the defendant in their opening statement…?"

"Oh, do be quiet," Lloyd growled, "forgive me if the prose of my argument was a bit… colorful, but these are the things a proper advocate of the law must be prepared to do in order to get the jury into the proper mindset, Mr. LeBlanc. Now, if you're done whining, I'd like to bring Detective Fletcher to the stand to explain the results of the prosecution's investigation."

The judge nodded, "That seems reasonable, unless you had any other objections, Mr. LeBlanc?"

"Not at this time, Your Honor," Robin's head sank.

"Very well," the judge banged his gavel, "Detective Fletcher, would you please present yourself?"

In a few moments, the detective stood before them. "Howdy," he waved to Robin before acknowledging Lloyd.

"Detective, we already know your name and profession, so why don't we just skip to the interesting bit: Tell us, what did the police find that conclusively evinces the fact that Morgan Cassidy is the murderer of Ewan Allen?"

The detective ran his hands through his hair and sighed, "Okay, so it's like this: Morgan Cassidy and Ewan Allen both entered the nightclub 'Club Les Chevaliers' on the night of October 17th to attend a performance by their mutual friend, Inigo Morales, and the rest of his dance troupe. During a break in the competition, right around 10 pm, Ewan Allen went to use the restroom. He never left it. According to the statements of Morgan Cassidy and her other friends who also attended the performance with her, Ms. Cassidy also left to use the bathroom not long after. It took about thirty minutes for the body to be discovered, and Ms. Cassidy was found near the entrance when a crowd started to gather. The police suspect Ms. Cassidy on the basis of considerable physical evidence, in addition to her suspicious timing: Ms. Cassidy had the victim's blood dried into spots on the front of her clothing, and there was a jacket found in the trash near the restroom that sported similar bloodstains, as well as a photograph of Ms. Cassidy's entire circle of friends. There were also some reddish-orange stains in the sink that may have come from the victim or the killer—we're still analyzing those. Anywho, the wound is a thin slice in the front of the victim's neck, suggesting that he may have been taken by surprise from behind, which would be a likely tactic for someone of smaller stature, like Ms. Cassidy."

"Thank you, detective," Lloyd Reed still had his arms folded.

"Mr. LeBlanc, your cross-examination?" offered the judge.

"I have a few more specific questions about your investigation, detective."

"Shoot."

"What weapon did the defendant allegedly use to commit the murder?"

"Ah, right. It was a small kitchen knife. Not much special about it, but it did have the defendant's fingerprints on the handle, and it was practically doused in the victim's blood."

"Doused? But that's odd. I thought you said the wound was just a small cut."

"Along the jugular, yeah. You have any idea how much blood can spill out when you cut someone's throat? The short answer is 'a lot.'"

"All right, well how about this: why did the defendant have blood on the front of her clothes if she killed the victim from behind?"

"The murder weapon was dripping with blood. Seems only logical some of it might've dripped onto her clothes."

"But why wouldn't she have disposed of all her clothing if she knew it had bloodstains on it?"

"Well, she got rid of the jacket, but if you're askin' me why she didn't go shirtless… Well, I can think of a couple'a good reasons. Also, the bloodstains on the shirt were small—maybe she didn't notice 'em, or she just hoped no one else would. Takin' off her shirt in public, though, I don't think was an option."

"The photograph you found in the jacket was a picture of all the defendant's friends, right?"

"'Sright."

"Was the defendant included in that photo?"

"Yup."

"So, couldn't it just as easily be evidence of any of the victim's friends, not just Morgan Cassidy?"

"Well, yeah, but that's why we have the fingerprints and the means of attack."

"Okay, speaking of those means of attack, can you be sure it was Morgan just from the way it seems the crime was committed."

"It's not an exact science, but we still have the fingerprints. It's a reasonable explanation based upon the circumstances that's supported by the incontrovertible physical evidence. You can take issue with it, but it doesn't change the fact that the defendant's fingerprints are on the murder weapon, end of story."

Damn, that was my last hope, Robin thought, There has to be something wrong here, right? If Morgan didn't kill Ewan, then something the detective has said must not line up properly with the evidence. Detective Fletcher is right in saying that I can't fight fingerprints, so I have to stick to the flimsiest part of that explanation: the method. I don't care what the detective says, the knife shouldn't be that bloody if the kill was that quick, and there should have been more blood on the floor, too… I wonder… did anyone else see the scene that night? Ah! That's it!

"Detective Fletcher," Robin straightened out his suit, "were you the first person to investigate the scene that night?"

"Formally, yeah," he nodded.

"What about informally?" Robin continued.

"I think the owner took a look, why?" the detective cocked an eyebrow.

"Isn't it obvious?" Robin shrugged, "If someone else investigated the scene first, it's possible for them to have planted evidence or altered the crime scene, isn't it?"

"Objection!" Lloyd Reed shouted, "That's a baseless accusation and you have no right to throw it out here."

"It's hard to tell how 'baseless' it is until I ask the owner, isn't it?" the attorney replied.

"There's no need," Lloyd growled, "it's pointless. You have no evidence to support the reason for questioning him!"

"Don't I?" Robin looked back to the detective, "Detective, is it true that you were speaking to the club's owner yesterday morning?"

"Y-Yeah," he winced.

"What were you speaking to him about?" the attorney demanded.

"W-Well, since he was the first one on the scene, I had to ask if he had seen anyone leaving, or if he had disturbed anything."

"And had he?"

"He's… under investigation."

"There!" Robin slapped his hand on his desk, "If the police suspect him of tampering with evidence, then I have every right to question him about it, specifically because that evidence is crucial to the prosecution's argument for Morgan Cassidy's guilt."

"Objection!" Lloyd cried.

"Overruled, Mr. Reed," the judge shook his head, "Mr. LeBlanc's reasoning is sound and his concern well founded. I therefore grant the defense's request and ask that the owner of the nightclub be brought forth to testify."

In a few moments, the same olive-haired man Robin had seen in the nightclub was being brought to the stand by the bailiff. He flashed a big smile at everyone in the court as he steadied himself before the judge.

"That was quick," the judge blinked.

"Yes, well," the witness rubbed the back of his neck, "As the club's owner, I had a vested interest in the trial, so I was among the gallery, as luck would have it."

"You deserted your business to watch today's trial? You're either very dedicated or incredibly irresponsible," commented Lloyd.

"Ah, my good partner Kent is watching over the club today, so don't worry yourself over it. Sain Cheval is nothing if not a consummate professional," he grinned back.

Lloyd Reed didn't seem impressed, "Very well. Name and occupation for the record?"

"As I just said, I am Sain Cheval, co-owner of Club Les Chevaliers along with Kent Clarke," he breathed an easy smile to the jury.

"Mr. Cheval," Lloyd grasped his chin, "Detective Fletcher told us you were under investigation for manipulation of the crime scene."

Sain laughed, "Most untrue, I assure you. Er, that I manipulated the crime scene. I am indeed under investigation, but I would never do something so heinous as destroy or fabricate evidence. After all, what reason would I have to do such a thing?"

"That's what we're here to find out, Mr. Cheval," Robin answered.

Lloyd took the conversation away from him, "Mr. Cheval, would you please tell the court what you saw when you arrived on the scene and what actions, if any, you took from that point."

"Certainly," the club owner smiled, "I was in my office not long before the murder, reading through expense reports, bills, maintenance necessities… Nothing of much interest, really. Feeling quite bored with that task, I decided to get up and stretch my legs, and also check on how things were going in the club. I saw that the dancers were breaking for a few minutes, and I must admit, I was a bit disappointed. I greeted a few of the patrons as the owner and asked how their evenings were going before taking a quick stop at the restroom. It was when I opened the door and took a few steps in that I saw it… The body. I was shocked, of course, to see all the blood on the floor. Honestly, I didn't even check to see if the lad was dead, I just called the police straight away and cordoned off the bathroom immediately."

"Thank you for your detailed account, Mr. Cheval," Lloyd said, leering at Robin from across his desk, "Void, I'm sure, of any untruths. I doubt there's any reason to question the words of Mr. Cheval, given the clarity he seems to show in his description, and, thus, Mr. LeBlanc's suspicions seem yet again unfounded."

Robin glared back, "I'll be the judge of that."

"No, I believe I will," coughed the judge.

"Oh, right, of course, Your Honor," Robin smiled sheepishly, "Uh, may I begin my cross-examination?"

"You may," the judge eyed him warily.

"Mr. Cheval, you said you greeted a few patrons. Did you recognize any of them?"

"Ah, I did see my dear friend Tethys there. I believe she was acting as a coach for one of the teams."

"And the sister of the deceased, as police records show," Lloyd added.

"How awful for that poor woman," the judge shook his head.

"Indeed," Robin agreed, "But… you didn't see this Tethys woman anywhere near the restrooms, did you?"

"Not at all, she was on the opposite side of the room by the time I went over there."

"So, you entered the bathroom and were surprised by the amount of blood, is that right?"

"I think any amount of blood on my floors would be troubling, yes."

"You were so troubled, in fact, that you called the police 'immediately,' to use your own words, right?"

"Yessir."

"What time do you think it was when you made that call?"

"Hm… I wasn't really looking at a clock at the moment. I'd guess around 10:15."

Robin's fingers cupped his chin.

"Well, Mr. LeBlanc?" the judge called out, "Have you satisfied yourself? Or is there still something you find questionable about Mr. Cheval's remarks?

Something here is pretty obviously off, based on what Colm told me, Robin thought, but the question is "Why?" and, moreover, "How do I prove it?" I guess the best I can do is just hit on what I know and see where it leads me.

"Mr. Cheval," Robin cleared his throat, "You say that you called the police around 10:15?"

"I believe so, yes," he smiled.

Robin shook his head, "I regret to tell you that that is impossible."

A murmur moved through the courtroom and Lloyd Reed slammed a fist on his desk, "What? Don't be so damned coy, LeBlanc: what are you trying to say?"

"If you'll recall," Robin folded his arms, "Detective Fletcher said that it took about thirty minutes for the body to be discovered, presumably because that's when the call was put in to the police. There's no reason why the detective would have said that if the police had been called fifteen minutes earlier!"

"Objection!" Lloyd growled, "You can't know that! Maybe Detective Fletcher was describing when the police discovered the body. Besides, what's your point? What do you assume happened in those fifteen minutes that's so important?"

"Well, fifteen minutes offers a lot of time to hide or plant evidence, doesn't it?" Robin leered.

"Objection," Lloyd snapped his fingers, "the defense is speculating. Without proof, this type of allegation means nothing."

"I agree with Mr. Reed, Mr. LeBlanc," announced the judge, "I was hoping that you could provide evidence to support your conclusions, rather than simply reframe your allegations. If you can't draw anything new from this testimony, I will have to conclude it at once."

Damn¸ Robin sighed to himself, I must be missing something. Well, if Mr. Cheval isn't telling the whole truth, there must be some detail he's not properly describing, something that doesn't fit in with everything I've heard so far. Did I hear anything that didn't fit with Colm's description of the scene? …Oh, that's right…! Robin LeBlanc composed himself and stared at Sain Cheval carefully, nursing the thought.

"So, what will it be, Mr. LeBlanc?" Lloyd Reed asked, tapping his finger on his arm, "Will you end this cross-examination and concede that your questions are without significance? Or will you insist on fighting on?"

"I just need to ask one more question," the attorney sighed, "Mr. Cheval, why was there so much blood on the floor?"

Sain Cheval cocked his eyebrow, along with several others in the courtroom, "Er, because the lad had been stabbed.

"I think you misunderstood my question, Mr. Cheval," Robin smiled, "I asked why was there so much blood on the floor?"

Sweat began to appear above Sain's eyebrows, "I… I fear the meaning of the defense's question eludes me…"

"I feel the same," Lloyd scowled, "LeBlanc, what are you getting at? That question has been asked and answered."

"Think of it this way," Robin offered, "Recall Detective Fletcher's description: the only notable bloodstains were all over the knife, on Morgan's clothes, and on a jacket that had been thrown in the trash. The amount of blood on the floor that came from the wound was negligible, at least, according to the detective's testimony."

"Ah!" Lloyd grit his teeth, "You mean to say…"

"But Mr. Cheval said he was shocked by the amount of blood he saw… If the scene was as the detective described, that amount would have been almost nothing!"

"O-Objection!" Lloyd stammered, "You don't know the state of the scene at the time, or how Mr. Cheval observed it… you… you're grasping at straws!"

"If the scene was any different between when Mr. Cheval and Detective Fletcher observed it, the court deserves to know. And there's no way to misinterpret the difference between their two testimonies." Suddenly, the attorney whipped his head up to Sain, "Mr. Cheval, this is your last chance, tell the court about what you know! If you say it now, the law may be kinder to you, but if it's discovered that you lied to a court to cover up your involvement, well… I know firsthand that prosecutors won't take that kindly."

Sain's pupils contracted to a tenth of their size and his lips quivered as he stared back at the attorney.

"Don't threaten the witness, you cur!" Lloyd roared.

The judge rapped his gavel a few times, "Order, order! There will be no such outbursts in my courtroom!"

This command was scarcely heard as murmurs and whispers escaped the lips of everyone in the gallery, all of them leering down at Sain Cheval. The olive-haired man looked around the room, rubbing his neck and feeling the pressure of their stares, and then his gaze fixed on one particular person: he saw the defendant, the sweet, brown-eyed little girl, sitting and looking forlorn at the handcuffs bound around her wrists. With a tickle in his throat and closed eyes, Sain lifted his head, "A-All right… I admit… I… did it."

The murmur in the courtroom quickly fell silent and all eyes looked to Sain.

He looked back up at them with tears at the corners of his eyes, "I… I did it, okay? I… I cleaned up the blooooooooooooooood!"

The entire court was taken aback by the shout, but Robin was prepared to seize upon the confession, "S-So… Mr. Cheval, you admit that you cleaned up the victim's blood before the police arrived?"

"Yes," he sighed, "I… I know it seems ridiculous now, but, when I saw it, all I could think of was how messy the floors looked, and so I just… I busied myself tidying it up… I don't really know what I was thinking."

Colm Fletcher stood up, "You lyin' sack of crap! What else've you been hiding, huh? I knew you stunk from the moment I saw you! Did you frame this little girl?!"

"N-No, please, you have to believe, I didn't want anything like that," the witness begged.

"Hard to believe, given where you now stand," Lloyd Reed folded his arms, "Well, you must be overjoyed, Mr. LeBlanc. I assume you intend to indict Mr. Cheval, in which case, well… to put it bluntly, the prosecution would not disagree."

"No," Robin shook his head.

Gasps and disbelieving remarks shook out through the gallery. Lloyd stared his opponent down, "What? But you have every excuse to accuse him now… Isn't that what you want? I'll be frank, Mr. LeBlanc, your odds of successfully defending this girl look quite good if you simply let this be the end of the trial."

"It's not just about defending Morgan," Robin went on, "I'm looking to find who's really responsible, and to have them face justice. I'm not convinced Sain Cheval had anything to do with the crime itself; he had no relation to the victim or defendant and he offers an alibi that can be verified by others in the building, since he introduced himself as the club's owner."

"But then why do you imagine he cleaned up that blood?" Lloyd continued.

"Simple: I believe Mr. Cheval has been telling the truth, with the exception of his omitting the part about cleaning the blood. He was shocked when he saw all the blood on the floor, and so he acted irrationally, trying to clean it up, as if it might make a difference. When he'd gotten past the initial shock and came to his senses, he did the proper thing and called the police while blocking up the restroom," the attorney summarized. Sain mouthed a "thank you" from the witness stand.

Lloyd was still watching the opposing counsel closely, but he took a step back from his desk, sighing, "Very well, it's not up to me to counsel you. If Mr. LeBlanc does not wish to indict Mr. Cheval, then the prosecution sees no further need for questioning of this witness. His crime is clear, and he will be tried appropriately at a later date, but the prosecution is of the opinion that the witness's interference with the crime scene does not sufficiently discredit the prosecution's precise and thorough investigation, as the mere fact of it fails to evince any innocence on the part of the defendant. For now, the prosecution would like to continue the trial by bringing forth its next witness."

The judge nodded, "Any objections, Mr. LeBlanc?"

"W-Well," Robin coughed, "Um, the fact that the detective's conclusion about the blood was incorrect means that the police and therefore the prosecution have less of a reason to suspect Ms. Cassidy, isn't that right?"

Lloyd Reed laughed, "Not quite, Mr. LeBlanc. I thank you for outing Mr. Cheval for his meddling, but the prosecution has much stronger evidence to present in the form of motive. A very strong motive at that."

"Then please proceed, Mr. Reed."

"Thank you, Your Honor. If it pleases the court, the prosecution has four additional witnesses prepared, though their statements and contribution to the investigation vary in significance."

Robin swallowed, Did he say four? I don't like the sound of that.

"They are all friends of the victim and defendant, Your Honor. And the one who I am about to call will provide for the court the reason for the altercation between the defendant and victim. Will Ms. Nino Cooper please come forward?"

In a few moments, the emerald-haired high school graduate was led to the stand. From there, she looked quite a bit like Morgan, with youthful eyes and pale, smiling lips. She was dressed slightly more professionally, sporting a lavender t-shirt and some purple pants that were neatly pressed and fit her exactly, as well as a violet hairband that kept her green locks in neat curls behind her ears.

"Name and occupation for the record?" Lloyd asked, whipping out a small pair of eyeglasses and looking down at a paper in his hand.

"Nino Cooper. Uh, I was a student until I graduated, so… I guess I'm unemployed."

"Thank you, Ms. Cooper," the prosecutor adjusted his glasses, "Do you know or are you at all familiar with the defendant, Ms. Morgan Cassidy?"

"Yes," she nodded, "Morgan has been one of my friends since grade school."

"I see. Do you also know the victim?"

"Yes, I was introduced to him through Morgan."

"They were friends as well?"

"Right."

Robin watched the prosecutor, This isn't good. Whenever Lloyd gets into these long-winded, specific question-and-answer directs, it always leads to something particularly upsetting.

"Were you in attendance at the dance competition at the Les Chevaliers night club on the night of October 17th?" Lloyd went on.

"I was."

"Was anyone else with you?"

"Yes, all of my friends were there: Morgan, Ewan, Ross, Cath, and Inigo, who was performing."

"And did you hear about the crime that occurred that night?"

"Of course."

"Did you become suspicious of anyone when you heard that news?"

"I did. I suspected Morgan."

"And why would that be?"

"Well, prior to our attendance at the dance competition, Morgan and Ewan had been involved in a fight."

"A fight? What sort of fight do you mean?"

"There was an incident where Morgan assaulted Ewan a few days prior to the murder."

The court stirred with yet more whispers, and Robin looked over at Morgan, whose face was growing pale as she shrank in her chair. "Objection!" the attorney shouted, "The defendant can't be convicted on the basis of a prior bad act."

"Objection," Lloyd shook his head, "the prosecution isn't asserting that the assault led to the murder of Ewan Allen, we merely posit that the defendant and victim had a history of hostility toward one another shortly before the murder occurred. Now, Ms. Cooper, do you know what this fight was about?"

"Yes, Ewan was angry at Morgan for spreading some… unfortunate rumors about Ewan."

"Unfortunate? Well, they must have been quite bad if there was an altercation. Can you tell us what these rumors were, specifically?"

Nino paused and bit her lip.

"It's all right, dear. It's all in the name of the law at this point. Everyone in this court knows it's nothing more than a silly rumor, but it's important to give the court context."

"Well… apparently, Morgan had been going around telling others that Ewan was gay."

"I see. Yes, I could see how such an insidious rumor might be very ruinous and upsetting for an adolescent such as the victim. And how do you know all this?"

"Ewan came to me for help first when he heard about the rumors. I suggested he talk to Morgan about it."

"And were you present when he did so?"

"Yes, that's how I knew about the assault, since Morgan was never charged. I managed to calm them both down before the fight escalated."

"And, to the best of your knowledge, a satisfactory resolution for these two, Morgan and Ewan, was never reached on the subject of these rumors prior to the night of the murder?"

"That's right."

"Thank you, Ms. Cooper," Lloyd smiled. Heads began to turn in the court, and Robin looked again to Morgan, who was lowering her head. He could see her eyes were turning red and wet, and her scarlet hair was bobbing as her shoulders heaved.

Creasing his eyebrows, the attorney thought to say something, "M-Morgan? Are you… going to be okay?"

Her teary eyes looked up, "Oh, yeah, I'm fine, I just… uh…" she coughed and wiped her face, "I feel… I never got to… It just reminded me…"

Robin put his hand on the girl's shoulder, "I… understand. You don't need to say anything more. Just try to take deep breaths."

"Well," Lloyd stretched out his arm and bowed his head to the judge, "There you have it, Your Honor. Clear and present evidence of motive, in conjunction with as-of-yet-not-disproved physical evidence… It is without question that the only logical solution to the puzzle with which we have been presented is that Morgan Cassidy is the murderer."

The judge cleared his throat and thoughtfully stroked his beard, then added a quick rub to his glimmering pate before continuing, "I agree that the witness's explanation would seem to further implicate the defendant, despite some of the questions raised by the defense. Mr. LeBlanc, are you prepared to cross-examine the witness?"

"Yes, Your Honor," the attorney nodded, his arm still around Morgan.

The judge noticed the gesture and his eyes led up to Morgan's reddened face: "Is the defendant all right, Mr. LeBlanc?"

"She was… upset by the witness's testimony, Your Honor. Reminded of the friend she lost." Robin made sure to look at the jury.

Lloyd sneered, "The courtroom is no place for sobbing children. If she can't control herself, perhaps we should excuse the defendant and have her return to her holding cell."

Robin LeBlanc turned to face Morgan, dropping his voice to just above the threshold of audibility: "If this is too much for you, Morgan, I can ask them to have you wait in another room with Eirika—er, your mother. It's no problem."

"N-No," she wiped her eyes, "I… I have to be here for this. I have to know what they're saying about me."

Poor girl, Robin frowned, and still, she's facing these accusations head-on, even at her age… I can't let her down.

"Mr. LeBlanc," the judge called, "is the defense considering the prosecution's proposal?"

"That won't be necessary," Robin protested, "She's just having a moment, Your Honor. Anyone would be upset hearing about their friend in such a way, hearing themselves implicated. It's important that the defendant is present to hear the case against her."

"Very good," said the judge, "Then, please, begin your cross-examination."

"With pleasure, Your Honor," Robin made a conscious effort to sharpen his eyes on the girl behind the stand. "Ms. Cooper," he declared loudly, "You were very quick to condemn Ms. Cassidy. Why is that? You were such close friends, according to your own statements."

"Morgan and I were—are close, but… I'm sorry, Morgie, but when it turned out that Ewan had been killed, knowing what I knew… how could I possibly keep quiet? It was really the only explanation."

"The only explanation? Ms. Cooper, were you presented with any of the evidence gathered by the investigation team?"

"Not before today's trial, no."

"So what made you so sure it could only have been Morgan, and not anyone else in the club?"

Nino's eyes widened, and she swallowed, "W-Well… I mean, I guess it wasn't the only possible explanation, but, like I said, how could I keep quiet about what I knew when the police were asking about Ewan having enemies?"

"The defense's point of argument is trivial," Lloyd added, "The girl did the right thing in telling the police about the assault, after having made a perfectly reasonable deduction in her head. I suggest we move on."

"I agree," the judge nodded, "unless you've got some compelling evidence to change our minds, Mr. LeBlanc."

The attorney sighed, "Not at this time, Your Honor. Now, Ms. Cooper, you say you witnessed my client assaulting the victim some time prior to the murder?"

"That's right."

"Why were you present for that?"

"Ewan asked me to come along when he confronted Morgan. Ewan's smart, but… he's not the strongest or most confident guy. He wanted me as backup, basically, probably on account of my great taijutsu skills!" The court watched the witness strike a fighting pose, accompanied by an incomprehensible shout.

The judge banged his gavel, "There will be no martial arts displays in this courtroom, thank you."

"Yes, Your Honor," Nino shuffled back to the stand.

"So, Ewan needed you for protection," Robin continued, "You didn't do a very good job, seeing as how he was apparently attacked regardless."

"Hey, screw you," Nino growled, "I was trying to stop the fight. You're really going to blame me because she got one punch in?"

"Indeed," Lloyd compounded, "I fail to see how the witness's success as a bodyguard is relevant to the matter at hand."

"Fine, one more question," Robin tugged at his collar, "You said Ewan and Morgan never resolved their argument, right? So why did they agree to attend the concert together?"

"They weren't going for the sake of being with one another, they were going for Inigo's sake. I'm pretty sure they avoided each other the whole night."

"Th-That's not true," Morgan protested.

"Come again?" Lloyd put his hand on his desk and leered at the defendant.

"What she just said…" the girl repeated, "It isn't true. Ewan and I… we agreed before that night to be there as friends. We never made up for the argument, but… we promised we'd be kind to each other. It was going to be our last night together as friends."

"Well, it's your word against hers," Lloyd dismissed, "I'd advise we continue the trial."

"What do you mean your 'last night together as friends,' Morgan?" Robin looked to his side.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? Since we'd all graduated, we went to Inigo's performance as a sort of last hurrah for our group of friends, since we'd all be going our separate ways before long."

Hm. I don't recall hearing that before. So, this was their way of saying goodbye to one another, huh? Well, it looks like somebody had a mind to make that goodbye a little more permanent, the attorney thought, cupping his chin.

"If the defendant is done interrupting, I'd like us to return to the cross-examination," Lloyd folded his arms.

The judge nodded, "I do apologize, but unless there's a substantial point to be made here, I must insist that we proceed with the trial."

Robin placed his hands on his desk. He stayed silent for a moment, staring blankly at the girl on the witness stand, then glancing over at his opposing counsel, who, on the other hand, was trying his best to appear not to be looking back at Robin, although Robin could feel the prosecutor's eyes slowly trying to read his face. The attorney also looked down at Morgan, who returned his gaze expectantly, her eyes gradually drying. Robin sighed to himself, Oh, no. I can't think of anything to say… Nothing to say… Agh! No! No, not again! Tell me this isn't happening again!

"Mr. LeBlanc, was it? It's time for you to speak up."

"What's the matter?" Lloyd spoke up, "Have you finally gotten it through your head? Without any evidence in your favor, this case is lost. All of the physical evidence points to her and she has a perfect motive. Just accept it, LeBlanc. You've lost. Now, end this pointless cross-examination and go out with some dignity, will you?"

"There's… the evidence… the evidence is…"

"I…" Robin could feel sweat staining his collar, "I just need more time…"

"You have no co-counsel, Mr. LeBlanc. You must do this yourself. Look upon the evidence and tell the court what you know."

"More time?" Lloyd Reed scoffed, "There is no more time. This is the trial, and if you aren't adequately prepared for it, you have to live with the burden of your failure."

"I…"

Robin took a step back, still silent. Morgan looked back at him.

"Well? Mr. LeBlanc, does the defense have any new evidence to present?"

"I do commend you for your work thus far. Really, you bested me once and thoroughly humiliated me in so doing, but luck can only get you so far. End this tiresome charade and no one will blame you for all that you have accomplished thus far."

"The defense… the defense…"

Robin stepped back again, his jaw tensing. Morgan was even more concerned, "Mr. LeBlanc? Are you… feeling okay?"

Dammit! My muscles are freezing up. My mouth won't open. It's just like before! Why… why is this happening now? Why, when I've been fine for so long… Why am I afraid now? Just say something, anything! Shout "Objection!" at the top of your lungs! Anything to make this stop!

Robin's eyes were widened and strained by apparent fear. Both of his hands shook and tried to clench into fists. People in the gallery who were previously distracted started to cast gazes toward the young man.

They're all staring! It's making it so much worse! But… why? I thought I was past this! I haven't been scared like this since… since Mr. Verlaine…

"Mr. LeBlanc?" The judge's eyes opened wide as he leaned forward over his bench, "Is something wrong? There's no need to be so upset, this is all a very normal part of the trial."

No evidence. No leads. No help. I've got nothing. I… what do I do? What do I say?

Lloyd Reed slammed his hands on his desk, "Mr. LeBlanc! I understand your devastation, but do show a little composure. This is still a court of law we're in."

The other trials… I got through them, so why now? I… I can't breathe.

A pale-faced Robin LeBlanc tottered backward before collapsing to the floor. A fury of voices ripped through the courtroom as the judge hammered his gavel rapidly and loudly, trying simultaneously to quiet the crowd and summon help for the fallen attorney. Lloyd Reed stared at the unconscious heap scrupulously for a minute, and when a resident doctor arrived, he stepped out.

The court was forced into recess.

[Turnabout of a Kind ~ Trial Day 1 Former-End]