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Falsely Accused

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The newspaper tells her that Phoenix Wright presented forged evidence. They tell her that he’s been disbarred; shamed and cast out even though there’s plenty of people who’ve gotten away with far worse in the past. Ema Skye refuses to believe whatever bullshit these people are spouting and, instead of studying for her upcoming test like she’s supposed to, she angrily grabs her coat and storms out of her dorm, seething.

She can't deny that he presented forged evidence but she knows that he was set up; he had to be, because there’s no way that Phoenix Wright would ever do something as damaging as this. Not even for his closest friends. Not the man who’d brought her new goggles for her science kit even though they cost him fifty dollars and certainly not the man who got tased by Manfred von Karma just to save Miles Edgeworth.

Lana had shown her enough images of taser scars for her to notice what the marks on his side were, and once she’d asked about where they came from - concerned and a little worried about his health - Phoenix had stuck out his tongue and told her with no short amount of embarrassment all about what happened in behind the scenes during Edgeworth’s trial.

She wonders, briefly, how Edgeworth is taking the news, if he’s heard about it already. Surely, he doesn't believe that Phoenix would…?

Ema shakes her head and keeps walking, ignoring her doormies when they call out after her with worry. The newspaper is only a week or so old, this time. She once sent a letter to Phoenix, complaining about how long it took for her dorm to get the news and he’d sent one back asking her why she didn't just watch the TV or use her phone. Ema had her own vices and old-fashioned moments - this was one of them.

She regrets, very suddenly, not watching the TV as often or using her phone much. She doesn't bother turning it on; doesn't want to see whether anyone has left her any messages to tell her the news. It’ll only make her feel worse. It isn’t like she can just walk to his apartment and demand he tell her everything either, because they live in different states now and train tickets are expensive . If she had the money she’d go in a heartbeat, but she doesn't and it sucks ass .

Ema slows down, hands shaking and balled into fists, frustrated tears building in her eyes that she stubbornly refuses to shed. She swears that if she ever gets her hands on Prosecutor Gavin, she’s going to punch him in his stupid perfect little face and hopefully knock his teeth out. Maybe break his nose. Curling into a ball in the street, Ema buries her face into her knees and viciously wishes for everyone involved with this to die a painful death.

She knows it isn’t fair to think that, because she doesn't know if they’re all guilty or not, but right now she doesn't give a damn about what's fair and what isn't , because Phoenix got disbarred despite all the good he’s done for so many people and that isn’t fair either. He doesn't need her telling him all of this, though, not now anyway, but Ema so desperately wants to call him - wants to hear his voice, wants to know if he’s okay and is there anything she can do to help?

He’s like a brother to her. No. He is her brother now whether he likes it or not. Has been ever since they first started investigating Lana’s case together.

She won't call him tonight. Tomorrow, she promises herself, when she’s calmed down and not liable to start sobbing or shouting down the phone. Tomorrow, when she can offer him comfort and support and not the other way around like he’s done for her so many times before.

Taking a shaky breath, Ema stands up, wipes away her tears and squares her shoulders. Tomorrow is going to be a tough day but she has to talk to him as soon as she can. Ema is going to prove that Phoenix Wright is innocent and she’s going to make sure she gets into a good enough position to help him overcome all of this and get back behind the bench where he’s supposed to be.

With a firm nod to herself, Ema starts marching her way back to her room and curses whoever gave Phoenix that evidence to begin with.