Date: Tuesday, June 7th, 2016

Time: 3:05 pm

Location: Fey & Co. Law Offices, Los Tokyo

All my work and everything I had been doing for the Redd White case over the past year was starting to wear me down. It was nice to have my firm to myself and complete control over my workload and cases, but I had no one to help me out when things got overwhelmingly busy.

One happy development was that Maya turned 17 in March and Aunt Morgan finally relaxed her grip. After years of holding Maya hostage at Kurain Village and begging her to let me see Maya a few times a year, she gave Maya the freedom to come up more frequently, so long as she kept up with her studies and training.

It had all been so hard for so long, but this rule change happened so easily all of a sudden. Aunt Morgan simply said that she agreed with me; Maya was going to be an adult soon. That argument hadn't swayed her the last time we spoke on the phone. Whatever her real reason, I didn't question it, thanking Aunt Morgan profusely for her change of heart.

From that point on, I would call Maya and ask her to visit me whenever I wasn't too busy with events and casework. I even got an apartment again so that she would have a place to stay whenever she was in the city. It was only a small bachelor, but it was way nicer than my last place, and it suited her well when she was here. She said it was so cozy that she felt like she was staying in a hotel again.

She could only ever stay for a day or two at a time anyway, so the size didn't matter. Besides, I didn't move in there completely like I thought I would while she was away, still sleeping on my office couch most nights. There was no sense in wasting the money on something extravagant.

Maya only visited on weekends mostly, but she would still come by the office those days, helping with some of my administrative duties. She would sort, highlight, and file papers for me and even help me catch up on emails, so long as I told her exactly what to say and double-checked her work before she hit send.

I was so grateful to see her and for all her help, with Maya agreeing to all this boring work so long as I paid her in hamburgers and ramen. However, her assistance wasn't enough for me to keep on top of it all. I needed a staff member to help me on a full-time basis, not just some hours here and there, a few weekends a month.

I posted a job listing for a legal secretary at the end of May and, after leaving the post up for a week, I reviewed the candidates. After discarding the unqualified applications, I had a dozen candidates left, eleven of whom were experienced legal secretaries with years of experience.

The twelfth person was both an anomaly and a familiar face: Phoenix Wright, my former client from my second trial, now a licensed attorney. He did it, just like he said he would; he proved me completely wrong.

I reviewed his application and saw that Phoenix had graduated from Ivy University's Fine Arts program one month after his criminal trial and then graduated from Ivy's Accelerated Law program this past September, before passing the bar exam that October. After that, he had nothing else listed on his resume. Just a big gap from November to May.

Comparing his application to the others, I knew that he wasn't the right choice on paper. However, maybe he was the "Wright" choice? Something told me that I shouldn't discount his application completely. I was also just curious to see what that sneezy, knitted sweatshirt-wearing, lovesick kid was like as a lawyer.

I interviewed the other candidates yesterday and this morning. All were qualified, but I had narrowed the list to two others beside Phoenix. Those two had the right disposition I was looking for, being positive and friendly, and detailing their organizational skills in-depth. Phoenix was the last person scheduled and, after that interview, I could select my first hire.

Phoenix was supposed to interview at 3:30 pm, but he showed up 25 minutes early, out-of-breath and red-faced, carrying a bike helmet. He was wearing an ill-fitting blue suit, probably one he found on a clearance rack, and his hair looked extra spiky. He must have gelled it more today so that his helmet wouldn't smush it.

I could see through the glass pane of the reception door that he was pacing in the hallway, obviously not wanting to enter the firm too early. My last interview had ended at 2:45 pm, so I put him out of his misery, greeting him outside.

"Hi, Phoenix! I'm ready now if you'd like to come in early?" I asked.

"Hi, Ms. Fey!" he exclaimed. "Sorry I'm so sweaty. I biked here from my parents' house. Sorry I'm so early too. I guess I was faster than I thought." He laughed anxiously and rubbed the back of his head.

I smiled amusedly. It was clear that he was trying to hide his nervousness with enthusiasm, just like his trial. "That's okay," I reassured him. "You're my last interview of the day. The sooner I finish, the sooner I can get back to work." As I spoke, I led him through the reception area and to my office.

"You saved the best for last, right?" he asked jokingly, before laughing a little too loudly at his very mild joke.

I laughed faintly. "Uh...maybe?" I replied. I hadn't discounted him completely but, so far, I wasn't exactly convinced.

Once we were seated, I started the interview in earnest. "To start, I just want to say congratulations on becoming a lawyer. How did you find law school?"

"Brutal," Phoenix said, elongating the word and gesturing with his arm. "I barely made it through; it was so hard." He seemed to notice my surprised expression. I was perplexed at how he could be so candid in a job interview. "But I finished! Passed the bar too!" he blurted out.

"Right," I said, nodding. "Well, I was looking at your resume and there wasn't anything listed after law school. What have you been up to?"

"Well..." He paused. "I, uh, was just waiting for the right job to come along!"

I stifled my laughter. That was code for not being able to find a job. Pretty impressive given the ongoing crime issue and the high demand for lawyers. "This job is for a legal secretary," I clarified. "You knew that when you applied, right?"

He nodded. "I did." He paused again. "Maybe this is weird to say but, as soon as I saw your name, I applied. I didn't care what the job was."

I was taken aback. "Really?" I asked. "Didn't you want to be a lawyer to help a friend of yours?"

"Yes, well, that's true," he admitted. "He works in the prosecutor's office. I just couldn't be a prosecutor though. I want to help people, not put them in jail."

I smiled. He and I were both on the same page that way. Being a prosecutor made the most sense for me too, but I couldn't do it either. "Won't it be harder to help him?" I asked.

"Probably," he agreed. "I'll find a way though," he said resolutely.

"Who is this friend of yours, anyway? Maybe I know him."

"Miles Edgeworth," he said, beaming.

"Miles Edgeworth...he's a friend of yours?" I asked incredulously. I had a hard time believing that Edgeworth had any friends.

"Uh, sort of," he said sheepishly. "Me, him, and my friend Larry were best friends in grade four. Then Miles moved away. I haven't seen him since, but I refused to accept all the bad things they've said about him in the news. He was a great friend."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Phoenix was even nuttier than I remembered. "You became a lawyer to help a friend you had when you were...nine? Ten?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds kind of crazy." He laughed nervously. "I'm a very loyal person though!" he added enthusiastically. "Would be a very loyal employee too!"

I couldn't help but smile again. He was saying all the wrong things, but he was so genuine. "Do you have any experience with administrative tasks?" I asked. "Did you complete any internships or work in an office before?"

"No," he finally said, knowing that wasn't a good answer. "My mom is a medical secretary though. I'd say the skill is genetic...probably. She could help me too!"

"Right," I said, nodding once more. "Well, I think that's all the questions I have for you. Do you have any questions for me?"

"Not a question, but a comment, if I could?" he asked deferentially. I nodded in agreement. "You really inspired me during my case," he said sincerely. "The belief you had in me when no one else had any...I wanted to be that person for my clients someday. If you give me the chance, I'll work harder than anyone until I become that person."

After bumbling his way through the interview, his final speech impressed me. Technically, he was just flattering me, but, well, he was pretty good at it. I remembered that day well and knew that my belief in his innocence wasn't as strong as my belief in Dahlia's guilt, but, either way, I had granted him his freedom.

Beyond that, I was just impressed with his loyalty and passion for the law. He could gain more experience as time went on, but you can't train someone to have those qualities. He's an authentic person and I feel like I can trust him.

I grinned. "Well, I know this isn't the proper way to do this but, when can you start?"

"Right now?" he offered.

I laughed. "How does tomorrow morning sound?"

Date: Wednesday, August 3rd, 2016

Time: 2:35 pm

Location: Defendant Lobby No. 2, Los Tokyo District Courthouse

It had been an interesting two months with Phoenix around. Those first couple weeks, I almost changed my mind completely and called one of my alternate applicants. His lack of experience was evident, and I had to hold his hand through almost every task; nothing came easily to him.

The secretary gene was obviously not passed down from mother to son as he was very messy and disorganized. While I had lived in a chaotic apartment before, I was completely meticulous in my organization of the firm. I had to stress the importance of good penmanship, diligent documentation, detailed expense tracking, and careful filing to him.

He was very friendly with the clients, but it took him too long to figure out the phones, dropping a few of my calls that he meant to put on hold or transfer. His emails were rambling and incoherent and needed extensive revisions before they could be sent.

His handle on the law also wasn't as robust as I was expecting. I knew he was still young and inexperienced, but I didn't remember being that clueless when I started. Maybe I had just forgotten what it was like? Or, maybe, he just didn't pay attention in school as much as I had.

That said, he rose to the occasion, staying as late as needed and repeating the work over and over until he got it right. He never complained and he always stayed positive, greeting every request and critique with a sunny "yes, chief."

I told him he could call me Mia, finding Ms. Fey too formal, especially with him being only a few years younger than me. He didn't seem comfortable with that so called me chief instead.

By the end of the first month, he was competent, doing all the work with minimal guidance from me. While he likely wasn't as skilled as the secretaries I interviewed, he had one benefit over the others: being a licensed attorney. When I was swamped with legal paperwork, I could get him to cover some of the burden or even take over some of the client meetings, something I couldn't have done with the other applicants.

Having Phoenix around made my workload more manageable and finally allowed me the chance to take a break sometimes. I could go for a walk, see a movie, sleep more than six hours a night, and spend time with Maya completely outside of the office. Working all by myself had not afforded me that luxury. In the past, any time I spent on myself, I paid for later in some way.

It was also nice to have another person around to talk to. Other than Maya, my clients, and those deplorable events I still attended on occasion, I had gotten so accustomed to being alone. Now I had someone to chat with during lunch, to commiserate with after a difficult client, and to collaborate with on casework. Already, I felt like I had a friend, a kindred spirit. Maybe that's not how bosses should feel about their employees, but this wasn't a typical workplace either.

That said, I kept him at arm's length about some things. When I introduced him to Charley the palm lily, the firm's unofficial mascot, I didn't explain his origins as Diego's favorite house plant.

Back when I first opened and was furnishing the office, I had found a Grave of the Fireflies poster at a used furniture store. It felt like fate; that movie wasn't as popular nor as well-remembered as it should be.

When Phoenix asked about the poster, I told him the truth, that it was the first movie that made me cry. When he asked me what the title was so he could check it out some time, I lied and told him that I couldn't remember. The movie title on the poster was in its original Japanese and he didn't know the language. I didn't want him to know either; it was a connection I had with Mom and Diego, but not him.

I also didn't explain to him where I went most Wednesday evenings. So long as I wasn't too overwhelmed with work, I still made weekly trips to Diego's hospital room to visit him, borrowing his car from the parking garage where Maria's estate paid to store it.

It had been nearly three years since his poisoning, and it was becoming harder and harder to believe he would wake up. I refused to give up on him though. Unlike my parents, I don't abandon people when it's convenient.

When I had an event one Friday and had changed into an evening dress in the firm's bathroom, Phoenix asked if I was going on a date. I didn't elaborate, teasing him instead. I asked him if his girlfriends typically wore floor-length evening dresses on the dates he went on.

He got embarrassed, saying he didn't know what was normal. His only girlfriend was Dahlia Hawthorne, and I knew how that went. After that discussion, he didn't ask what I was up to again.

Lastly, I hadn't told him about the magatama, and how I used it to help with my criminal cases. He told me how much my belief in my clients had meant to him and, knowing I had this tool at my disposal, it made me feel like a fraud.

His idealism made me want to stop using it, but I didn't have the nerve to approach cases blind yet. I wanted to eventually though. I had believed in his and Terry Fawles' innocence without it. Maybe I didn't need it as much as I thought. Maybe my gut instincts were enough.

Despite some secrecy, we had a good working arrangement sorted out. However, very quickly, he wanted to change that, walking into my office yesterday and requesting to serve on his first criminal trial: a murder case.

I was hesitant at first; I didn't hire him to be a lawyer, and he didn't seem quite ready yet. He was adamant about it though. The defendant was his childhood friend and he insisted that he had to be the one to defend him.

I remembered those feelings: the eagerness to serve on my first trial, and the disappointment when Mr. Grossberg wouldn't let me. Phoenix seemed so young still; he would only be 24 in October, but I relented with very little pushing. I wouldn't hold him back like I was, and I told him that I'd be his co-counsel on his first trial.

During the trial, Phoenix's friend Harry was a total basket case, but I guess that's to be expected when you're accused of murdering your ex-girlfriend. He wasn't the most cooperative defendant either, reminding me a lot of Phoenix during his trial. He frequently spoke out of turn and always said the most incriminating things. Phoenix was incredibly nervous, but he seemed mature in comparison to his friend.

Remembering how I felt on my first two trials, I tried to be calm and steadfast in my approach instead of stern and lecturing. Sometimes, I couldn't resist the urge to lecture or chide, particularly when Phoenix asked me some Law 101-level questions. I mostly stayed positive though, offering gentle guidance without giving him the whole answer.

Phoenix was worried about Winston Payne, the prosecutor on the case, and his "Rookie Killer" reputation. I told him not to worry. After I clobbered him on my second case, he had been unable to live up to his previous reputation. Once his seven-year win streak was broken, he lost many cases, including several more to me.

Phoenix had stumbled at first, but he eventually figured out the key clue to the case almost all on his own: the murder weapon. The replica statue of The Thinker that the victim was struck and killed with was actually a clock that read out the time when pressed, or when it hit someone. Harry had made it himself and had given it to the victim as a gift.

The victim had taken it with her to Paris and hadn't reset the clock to Los Tokyo time before she was killed. The actual killer claimed to have witnessed Harry murder her, but he said that the crime had occurred three hours earlier than the autopsy report stated.

Phoenix determined that the clock was responsible for the killer's incongruent testimony with the autopsy report. The killer used the time the clock announced when making his witness testimony, a time he would have only heard if he struck the victim himself.

Just like that, Phoenix wrapped up his first case in only four and a half hours, finding the true culprit, and clearing his friend's name. After the trial's end, Phoenix thanked me for my assistance, but I assured him that he did the bulk of the work himself.

Harry was beside himself with grief at first, claiming that his ex was the love of his life. He seemed to forget that she was a sugar baby who had dumped him in favor of rich men who could support her decadent lifestyle.

He quickly got over the loss though, asking me out to dinner and then offering me The Thinker statue as a gift. I told him that I didn't want to keep the murder weapon, but he assured me that it was another exact replica that he had made for himself.

I accepted it, figuring this kid was flat broke and wouldn't be paying us; at least I could get some sort of payment from him. It might make for a cool conversation piece at the office. I declined the offer of dinner though. That sounded like torture rather than payment.

I did offer to treat Phoenix though. "Say, how about dinner, on me?" I asked. "We'll drink a toast to innocent Butz!"

"Yeah!" Phoenix agreed.

Impulsively, I took the offer one step further. "Oh, speaking of Harry, you were saying part of why you became a lawyer was because of him."

"Er, yeah. Part, at least."

"You'll have to tell me more about it sometime! Maybe... over drinks?" I suggested.

"O-oh. Ummmm," Phoenix answered hesitantly.

Crap. I knew that reaction. I reacted similarly when Diego asked me out for drinks after my first case. I needed to do damage control quickly. "Oh. Sorry, no, I didn't mean it that way," I clarified.

"Oh, okay," he said relievedly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that. I mean, you're, well, you know, it's just...you're my boss," he explained.

"It's okay," I said frantically. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. That's just what my mentor had done for me after my first case. A first trial treat, he said."

"That makes sense." He smiled. "Who was your mentor? Would I know him?"

"No," I said quickly. "He moved to Europe years ago," I lied.

"That's cool," he said cheerily. "Europe is where a lot of lawyers go. I think Prosecutor von Karma sent Miles there to train."

"Yes, I believe so," I agreed. There was an awkward pause.

Finally, Phoenix spoke again. "Um, chief?"

"Yes?"

"Not that it matters now; he's already gone home, but my friend's name is Larry."

"What have I been saying?" I asked.

"Harry...Butz."

I grinned. "Oh. Well, it'd be a lot funnier my way," I quipped. We both laughed.

We ordered delivery to the office, and I paid for it, as promised. I had a bottle of champagne that was given to me by a former client, and we toasted Phoenix's victory.

We chatted for a few hours, and Phoenix seemed to forget the whole awkward interaction, talking pleasantly as we ate and drank. However, the moment weighed heavily on me.

I told myself that the invitation meant nothing, but I still felt incredibly guilty. The feeling was made even worse knowing it was Wednesday evening and I had skipped my usual hospital visit to celebrate with Phoenix instead.

Was there some part of me that wanted to move on? Almost everyone who knew the situation told me I was being too stubborn, and that he'd never wake up. It seemed like they were right.

When I had served on Phoenix's defense case, he seemed so immature to me, but he had grown up a lot in the past 2.5 years. He was a lot more distinguished and, dare I say, cute now. He still had those ill-fitting blue suits, that Jersey Shore haircut, and so much left to learn about the law, but he had grown into a respectable man. He really impressed me with his performance today.

That said, I still think about that day in July all the time: when I told Diego I loved him and, for the first time, I knew I meant it. That change and that feeling...it was spiritual in some way. Something that I couldn't easily replicate.

I've been so lonely these past three years, but I wasn't just lonely for anyone. I was lonely for him. I don't think I could just replace him with anyone else.

Thinking it through, I realized that Phoenix was more like a brother to me, and that's fine. I could use a friend right now and I always wanted a little brother.