Day 48: Sun Room [Second Shift]

[perfectrecord]

Hmph. While this Rude was the proverbial "man of few words," von Karma found more potential use from him than a number of the other patients he had met put together. He would still ask Franziska about the man... as well as the other people he had learned that she had been spending time around. Many of them were utter fools, especially that

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[fourstonewalls]

That's because I don't want you to help me. It was looking more and more certain that the conclusion she'd jumped to was accurate. Damn. And Ema had insisted on stepping right in the middle of it.

Besides, I didn't say anything because she was dead, and there was nothing I could do about it. Aside from putting Miles Edgeworth on the case, and look how that had turned out. Mia had done her one better there; Mr. Wright's methods had been unorthodox, but Lana couldn't argue their effect.

"It's either the thirteenth or the fourteenth of December, 2016, since I'm not sure how long I was unconscious. The last thing I remember was going to bed on the night of the twelfth, before waking up last night."

That was over two months difference -- and a couple days after the annual evidence transferral. That clinched it; she didn't know what had happened, but for once why and who were painfully clear. At least for her own part in the fiasco.

"And I'm sorry. I can't give you any more information on a murder I haven't yet committed." She flipped her own notebook to a blank page, pen ready to take down the facts of the case, if Ema insisted on walking through the entire sordid mess.

[scientist_skye]

December 2016. And as Lana opened her notebook, Ema noticed a lack of bandage on Lana's right hand. Those two details cemented it--even though it wasn't at all scientifically possible, she and Lana were from different times. Sure, the difference was only a little over two month, but it was large enough to be disconcerting. Not only did Lana have no idea about her own murder trial, she also had yet to go through the massive headache that was State vs. Edgeworth.

Not that that seemed to change much; Lana still seemed content to plow on full-speed ahead with her icy collectiveness. Ema might as well have been one of the office assistants in her employment for the amount of sisterly warmth Lana was willing to give her. Honestly, if Lana had to arrive at this place from a point earlier than Ema had, why not two years earlier when things weren't so terse between the them?

And then Lana really went and ruined it. I can't give you any more information on a murder I haven't yet committed... "You didn't commit it, aren't you even listening?! Mr. Wright and I have been working so hard to help you, and you don't even care! You're so preoccupied with going to jail forever or worse that you haven't even given anyone else a moment's thought, have you?!" Tears stung behind her eyes, but Ema paid them little heed. "All you've managed to do is maybe strike a plea deal and then dump Joe Darke in everyone's lap! You know everything and you won't even tell me..." Ema's voice lowered as she drew into herself, pulling the journal to her chest. "And here you can't tell me, can you?

"Well, fine. I'm going to find a way out of here, and find a way to save you, and there's nothing you can do to stop me!" With that, Ema turned on her heel and made a move to storm off. The reunion was over, and Ema wanted to take her leave before Lana turned her back and dismissed her.

That part was always the worst.

[fourstonewalls]

No, I can't tell you. Just not for the reasons Ema supposed. So it was confirmed. The evidence transfer, Detective Goodman, herself, and Joe Darke, reunited for one final tragedy. And two loose cannons in the forms of a defense attorney and a would-be scientific investigator, whose stubbornness drew from the same well as Lana's, and would not be placated.

Can't you see I'm doing this for you? But to admit that would be tantamount to a confession, and just as unacceptable. It was better she didn't know.

Lana closed her eyes. By the time she opened them, Ema had vanished. Good.

She turned back to the bulletin board, and resumed her methodical survey. The one person who would have noticed that every time she tilted her head to see a new note, every tendon stood out, had already gone.