(no subject)
I can't help but think... I'm completely useless. I'm a burden. First, Prosecutor Marshall... and now Mr. Wright, and Mr. Edgeworth, too.
And Robin. Turns out he's my age, and is able to handle himself without needing to be saved all of the time.
It seems like the more I try to get better at being able to help, the less help I actually am.
Maybe it's just this city that makes me feel this way. I don't know. It hasn't been sunshine and happiness in these parts, and it's starting to wear on me. It's a very scientific explanation--my emotional insecurity is just an extension of this city.
But... that doesn't make me feel better. And it doesn't keep me from jumping at bumps in the night, waiting for Joe Darke or Matt Engarde to jump out and get me.
I hadn't even thought about being afraid of Joe Darke in so long... he's long, long gone. It's this city. It has to be.
I need to talk to Lana.