Chapter Text
Prologue
I always thought the fall from grace was a long one. That you’d realize mid-air the mistake you made and you’d start flailing recklessly, regretting that now there’s nothing you can do but wait for minutes -but what really feels like hours- fully aware of the pain you were going to feel when you finally hit solid ground.
When I put it that way, I wasn’t entirely wrong. But I definitely was about that last part. Maybe I knew I’d really put my foot in it, but I wasn’t expecting anything that came next. The entirety of the last two weeks has been a blur. Chock-full of events and emotions that now leave me feeling utterly drained and confused.
The date is May 3rd 2019. My name is Phoenix Wright, and I was a famous defense attorney.
Huh. I never thought I’d be writing that in past tense. It’s depressing. Sounds like I died. As I said, it’s been two weeks since the trial that changed my life. I’ve always been the type to write out my feelings when in a tough spot, but it’s been so hectic I haven’t even had the chance to sit down and think anything through until now. So I guess I’ll start where I always ask everyone else to start: by explaining what happened.
April 19th - a trial like any other. It was a matter of an elder magician’s death. His two major disciples were the prime suspects. Mainly, my client Zak. Magnifi Gramarye had sent two notes -one to each disciple- asking them to end his life in the hospital he was staying in that night. Two guns. Two bullet holes. One in a stuffed toy that was sitting on the side table, and one in Magnifi’s head. It seemed simple. If Zak hadn’t done it, then it should be the other disciple, right?
No matter what I tried, something just didn’t feel right. I couldn’t prove Zak’s innocence but there wasn’t anything directly proving the other party’s guilt either. I was stumped. So, stupidly, I presented a piece of evidence a little girl had given me before the trial. A page from Magnifi’s diary that could prove the other disciple was the killer. The prosecutor (a young prodigy who was also in a rock band, by the way) picked up on my uncertainty immediately and called in a forger who said he’d been commissioned to write that notebook page by an attorney.
It wasn’t me. I made that loud and clear, but since there wasn’t anything proving otherwise, they had no choice but to formally assess me.
That’s not all. Right as the judge was about to hand down the guilty verdict, Zak disappeared . A magic trick. Vanished into thin air straight off the witness stand. Now, I wouldn’t put so much focus on this if it didn’t mean he left his 8-year-old daughter behind. What kind of jerk abandons a child- in any situation?? The poor girl ran right to me as soon as the trial was over, and even though I was in tears, I had to be there for her. She’s been staying with me for the past two weeks.
When they had my assessment, the board unanimously voted for my disbarment, bar one: Kristoph Gavin. A defense attorney, and a somewhat respected one. I’ve definitely heard of him. Unfortunately, one vote wasn’t going to cut it. So the career I’d dedicated so much to was over in an instant. Something about how quickly they came to the agreement (and the way the entire hearing was conducted) seemed off to me. I can’t quite put my finger on it, and maybe it’s blind hope that one day I’ll prove it, but I’m convinced some foul play was involved.
While I’ve managed to make some progress unravelling the tangled knot that is this mystery, there’s one thing I have been searching for and haven’t found. Trucy, the sweet little girl that was ditched for a stage trick, doesn’t seem to have any other relatives. I’ve been looking through every source I can find: phonebooks, public records, social media profiles, and nothing. Her mother abruptly left the spotlight after a trick gone wrong three years ago and is presumed dead.
No other connections found. It’s quiet. Deadly quiet. Usually you can find quite a lot of information about people on the internet these days. But there’s such a lack of information on this family’s private life- it’s almost like someone wiped it. I couldn’t just leave this kid on the street, so… there's only one thing I can do. Trucy is going to be my daughter. I’ve talked to her about it (and was met with an odd amount of enthusiasm in response, mind you) so I’ll start the process to adopt her as soon as I can. It might be nice to have someone else around the apartment. It’s been just me on my own here for a few months now. And… I may need to focus on someone other than myself for a while. I feel like ruminating in my despair won’t do me any good, and Trucy is as good a reason to get up and going as any.
