A/N: Sorry for the delay folks, have not been able to get on my laptop for reasons which I shall not get into, so I wrote this chapter and about a quarter of the next one in my notebook. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, I kind of had fun writing it, horrible as that sounds. Oh yeah, shout outs!

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Thank you all so much for the support. Your reviews never fail to bring a smile to my face. :)

~Diana

The car pulled up to the detention center, brakes squealing a little bit. Edgeworth climbed out, slamming the door behind him. He knew he really should be meeting Wright and getting the facts, but that could wait a bit. Besides, he was too worried about Madeline to think straight. How could "he" have done this?

Entering the detention center, he made his way directly to the guard at the front desk. "I'd like to see Madeline Brent, please," he said firmly. The guard stared back at him, faint surprise lighting up his eyes.

"Are you her lawyer?" he asked sleepily, looking him up and down.

"N-no," he muttered. Did they require you to be someone's lawyer to visit them now?

"Aw, pal, let him in," called a voice from the entrance that Edgeworth would know anywhere.

"Detective Gumshoe," he said, turning. Apparently some things never change; the detective still looked as scruffy as ever.

"Hey, pal," Gumshoe replied, grinning. Edgeworth was taken by surprise. Pal? Then he remembered: he was a defense attorney and didn't command respect from the police force.

The guard yawned. "But sir, I'm not supposed to-"

"Well, I'm a detective, pal. I outrank you," Gumshoe said, cutting off the guard. He gestured to Edgeworth to follow him, unlocking the door to the visitor's room and waving out the guard by the door. "I really shouldn't be doing this, pal," he said as Edgeworth sat down in the visitor's chair.

"I appreciate it, Detective," Edgeworth replied.

"Why so formal, pal? You usually only call me Gumshoe," the detective said, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Of course, Gumshoe," Edgeworth muttered.

Gumshoe turned to the door leading to the cells. "I warn you though, pal. You won't like what you see."

Silence echoed around the room for a moment and Edgeworth wondered exactly how much about Madeline had changed. He got the sinking feeling that he was about to find out the hard way.

There was a click and a creak as the door opened and a familiar head of ebony curls entered, looking at the floor. She took her seat and looked up. Edgeworth felt his heart break at the look of pure fear and grief on her face. Then her gray eyes hardened into chips of ice.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly. He was taken aback by her sudden change in attitude.

"Madeline, I-"

She turned away. "I have nothing to say to you." He was utterly confused. What had happened?

"Madeline, please-"

"No!" she said, turning back to face him, eyes sparkling with tears. "How could you think I did it?" Her voice faded into a heartbroken whisper.

"Listen to me," he said. She was quiet, but her eyes didn't change. "I have no idea what's going on-" She opened her mouth, eyes glowing with anger, but he held up a hand, cutting her off. "I woke up an hour ago with no memory of what happened this morning. I came here from a different time, I guess you could say-"

She jumped up in outrage, her chair clattering to the floor. "That's insane! You're insane!" she yelled, absolutely blazing with fury now. "Do you expect me to believe that?" He was in awe for a moment – she was so beautiful when she was angry. She grabbed her chair and slammed it back upright, glaring his way. "Any other questions, Mr. Edgeworth?" she asked frostily. It hurt him to see her like this.

'Just one more," he replied, sighing. Judging by her attitude, it was unlikely that this would go well, but he still had to give it a shot. "Do you, er, have a lawyer?"

Her eyes crackled with anger. "Why would I ask you of all people to defend me? You got me in here, how could I trust you to get me out?" Although he was a little hurt by the ferocity of her response, it didn't surprise him.

"Alright then," he murmured. He still loved her, despite her apparent newfound hatred toward him. "I'll be back," he said, standing.

"Don't bother," she replied coldly, standing also. Her hostility cut him like a knife, but he hid his emotions well. He watched her exit the interrogation room, head held high. Standing in silence, he tried to come up with a rational reason for her behavior, a crime that she could possibly have been accused of committing, what he could have done to land her in the detention center. Whatever he had done, it must have been serious.