From 4/2014
"She's just seventeen!" Phoenix found himself yelling in desperation. He needed more time, and more evidence. There was no way he was going to let Mia's sister be convicted.
Edgeworth met his argument with cool stoicism. "That's old enough to commit murder," he replied, his voice cutting through Phoenix like a sword. Could Edgeworth really have changed so much that he'd be willing to send an innocent girl to the prison district?
Phoenix flipped through his evidence again. Maybe Edgeworth couldn't see it, but the tears in Maya's eyes on that fateful night had definitely been genuine. There was no way she'd killed her sister. And Phoenix had to prove it or else live with the guilt of knowing what Maya would be sent to for the rest of his life. He'd been there once, felt the fear of what would happen to him if he were convicted fade away as the woman he'd loved turn away from him, her cold eyes like daggers digging into his heart.
He'd felt no joy when Dahlia was taken away in his place. And he wasn't ashamed of the relief he'd felt when he learned months later that she'd been executed instead of being sent to the prison district. Serial killers were too dangerous to be available to the public. Naturally.
What a surprise when that December he found himself facing down Edgeworth through the glass of the detention center. Edgeworth had no attorney and seemed to have resigned himself to his fate, willing to accept the punishment for this crime he didn't commit.