As Miles thought more about the case, the more concerned and uneasy he became. Alba wasn't the ringleader, who else could it be? He remembered Franziska, her life was in danger. Picking up his phone he dialed her number.

"Miles Edgeworth! You foolishly foolish fool, how dare you call me at these foolishly ungodly hour? I need to get some sleep!" Franziska boomed over the phone. Should have gotten ear plugs, Miles thought as he sighed.

"Did you receive a list?" Miles asked.

"What list?" Franziska asked irritated. He could hear her whipping something.

"Franziska, I need you to come here to America, as soon as possible, better yet, now, I will explain it to you when you get here," Miles said calmly, though he wasn't.

"Miles Edgeworth, is this a joke?" Franziska asked.

"Franziska, would I call you at this time, knowing full well you would whip me once you get here, and make a joke about it?" Miles countered.

Franziska was quiet, and then she hang up the phone. Miles sighed in relief and he waited. Half an hour later, he received a call, he expected it to be from Franziska, however that was not the case. "Miley, did you call Zis?" a familiar feminine voice asked. Miles's heart skipped a beat. It was her, but that was not possible, she was dead, killed by a bomb in Cohdopia. His hands' shaking, he stammered. "I called her to come here to America," Miles replied as he composed himslef, his instinct told him not to question her. The phone hang up. Was it a dream? Cautiously, he checked his call log, a private number. Was it a hallucination? He thought about it, and everything went dark.

oOo –

It was morning when Miles woke up, he must have fallen asleep. He remembered his "dream", and checked his cell phone, other than a missed call from Franziska, nothing else, his mind was trying to rouse itself from it's grogginess. Miles's mind was blank for a while, then it snapped to attention. Franziska! She was sure to kill him. He called her. It was unavailable. Unsure of what to do, he rushed to the airport. Hoping that if she was there, she would give him a chance to explain himself before being whipped to death.

"Miles Edgeworth! Why are you late?" Franziska ranted, with a flick of her whip, she whipped him. Miles howled in pain but he did not mind it. He rubbed his reddening arm, but his mind was somewhere else.

"Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska shouted, that brought him back, along with another nasty red welt on his cheek. Miles faced her.

"What are you foolishly thinking about it you foolishly foolish fool?" Franziska demanded. Miles sighed as he looked at her, there were so many things he wanted to tell her, but was it the right time to tell her, or even the right place? As he continued staring at her thinking, balancing out which he should tell her first. Impatiently, she raised her whip and readied herself to give Miles a harder and more biting blow from her trusty durable whip.

"Qilin," Miles said, unknown that what he said had saved him from another red welt Franziska was planning to give him," she called me through my cellphone." It was Franziska's turn to pause. She paled. Qilin couldn't be have called Miles, she was dead, Franziska thought. Dead because of that incident, but they didn't send the body, but she had been killed, her body was beyond identification, and her father, her papa, had been too angry with her to have the body sent back for a proper burial. No one can rise from the grave, no one, was Miles Edgeworth beginning to be too guilt ridden to be kept sane? She trembled, she had no one else to turn to now, her sister, her papa, her niece, they were gone, dead, resting in the grave, if she lost Miles too, she would be alone in a world that could become cruel at any time.

"Miles Edgeworth, you foolishly foolish fool, do you want me to send you to the loony bin? Is that what you want to tell me? Is this why I am here in this foolish country?" she demanded, she was concerned for him, but she masked it with annoyance and impatience. She was bending her whip as she broke into a cold sweat, it was a tad noticeable that she was shaking.

Miles saw something that grabbed his attention, a man in a baseball cap, could it be Lang? No, it couldn't be, unless he was wearing a short-haired wig. It could not have been Liuxang, the man was too tall, and the shoes were not platforms, which would have made it impossible for him to change his height, pretending to look at a plane that passed the control tower, he observed the man. The man was obvioulsy smiling, an evil smile, like a predator closing in on his prey. Slowly, the man drew out an object that glinted in the sun. Miles saw it, and knew it was a gun, he faced Franziska, trying to act as normal and as calm as possible.

"No! Of course not!" Miles said, though truthfully he had forgotten what Franziska was asking him, but he knew he should say no," but we have to talk about it in my car." Miles grabbed her luggage and led her to his red sports car.

"You might have to stay in my place Franziska, it might not be safe for you to book in a hotel," Miles stated as he drove, Franziska glared at him, Miles glared back. Franziska knew it was for the best but staying with him? Who knows what might happen, she shuddered.

"About the reason why you are here Franziska, you are in danger," Miles said calmly," you, Agent Lang, and me, we are targeted by that case."

"Don't be foolish, you foolishly foolish fool," Franziska said, she wanted to smack him with her whip," Alba's under arrest – "

"He's dead and if you did not notice, a man in the airport was drawing a gun to our direction," Miles interrupted her," and I don't think it was some gag the airport thought of." Franziska became uneasy. She was about to argue, when a she felt a strong painful jolt coursing through out her body. Miles looked behind him, a black rolls-royce behind him was ramming him from behind. "Hold on Franziska, this might get bumpy," Miles said as he stepped on the gas pedal.

"This is getting bumpy Miles, and I won't forgive you for that pun!" Franziska shouted. Miles lost count of how many times he was hit, he hoped Franziska would be alright. The ramming became harder and harder, until it became too hard for Miles, his head had hit the steering wheel and the back of the chasis. "Miles? Miles!" Franziska shouted, for the first time, she wasn't saying his full name. He would have smirked, but it was probably too serious for that. His vision was blurring and fading. "Sorry … Zis … I … thought … you … would … be … safer … here..." Miles struggled to say before he lost consciousness. What was it that passed by him? For sure, he thought he saw a gray blur, and a crash. For once, Miles thought before he blacked out, Franziska was calling him by without formality. His last image was Franziska paling at something behind his car and then attending to him.