A Victim for Six Years

Chapter one: Since Turnabout Goodbyes

Six years ago. For Five days.

That's how long it has been. That's how long it was.

Six years ago, when my father was arrested for murder. When he was framed. When he almost went to jail because of his adoptive father.

And where was I when my father was being judged, suspected, when his nightmares became the worst?

I was nine years old. I was living in Germany.

For five days.

And those five days were some of the scariest days of my life.

Let me start at the beginning of the case.

Christmas Eve, 11:45 p.m.

My father left the house to go and meet a friend. He said it was important. He left me with his friend, and most trusted colleague, Detective Gumshoe. We stayed at the house for about thirty minutes, before Gumshoe received a call from the police.

A man from the boat shack on Gourd Lake called.

Because he had witnessed a murder.

I didn't know that it was a murder at the time, but I knew that something was wrong based on the way that he was talking into his walkie talkie.

"Listen, I know...but this is such short notice...please, chief, cut me some slack....I'm looking after a kid right now..." but he stopped immediately when the chief said something. I wasn't really paying much attention until he said something immediately following the silence.

"Edgeworth?" My last name. I looked up from what I was doing. "Miles Edgeworth?" My father. What happened? Was my father in trouble? The next thing he said, I'll never forget. "You...you arrested Miles Edgeworth?"

And then, the chief's response. I could hear it plain and clear, through the static covering the chief's voice:

"Gumshoe, your buddy killed a man."

I honestly don't remember the rest of that night, too well. Gumshoe took me back to the police department for me to stay while he went to investigate. There were a lot of tears, as well as stuttering as Gumshoe tried to explain to me what he was going to do.

After Gumshoe left, it was honestly pretty scary. Everyone was racing every which way. I just sat on a chair inside of Gumshoe's office, trying to figure out what was going on. At one point, I heard a yell and looked over to see my father, in handcuffs. The amazing man that had raised me for the past nine years. His bangs were hanging in front of his face. He was hunched over, ashamed. I just stared at him through Gumshoe's window. When he looked up, he looked me in the eye for a solid three seconds. His gray eyes were filled with surprise at first, then fear, and shame. I could see beads of tears forming in the corners of his eyes. I placed my hands against the window and stared at my father, at this man accused of murder. And I remembered what he had said when he had left, only a few hours prior. That he was only going to meet someone. That he would be back in a few hours at the most. I knew that he didn't do it. But would you believe a nine-year-old daughter of a murder suspect who didn't even witness the murder?

A few hours went by. Gumshoe eventually sent an officer to take me home. When we reached the house, the officer assigned an old friend of my father's to watch me as they tried to contact a family member to look after me.

My father's friend watched me for hours, as I pretended to sleep in my room. They made many calls, until they finally got ahold of someone. Franziska Von Karma. My adoptive aunt. She lives in Germany, every so often coming to America to visit or prosecute a case or something. I was sent to meet her at the airport about thirteen hours after my father was arrested, and from there, we went to Germany, where I would stay with her until my father was given a verdict.

I stayed with my aunt for about five days before my father sent his childhood friend, as well as my godfather, Phoenix Wright, to come get me.

Those five days were some of the scariest days of my life.

For one, Germany was completely foreign to me. I hadn't been there since I was two, maybe three? We stopped visiting the Von Karmas when I was very young for some reason.

Even the house that Franziska lived in was foreign to me. She had a guest room that I stayed in for five days. I hated it there. The walls were colorless, with peeling wallpapers and the furniture was nothing but plain and gray.

Don't get me wrong, my aunt was very good to me. I know she was trying her best, but she doesn't have a husband, nor children. There was only something about the house that felt intimidating.

I remember sometimes trying to fall asleep some nights, but after what happened with my father, as well as being in a house completely alien to me, I found it hard to sleep.

Some nights, Franziska would be on the phone with someone, and she would shriek into the phone in German. The one word that I remember her saying the most, I later found out means "fool".

The day that Phoenix came to pick me up, Franziska helped me pack up my things and walked me to the airport so that I could go back to America.

But once we met up with Phoenix, I turned around to find Franziska gone.

I've never cried as hard as I did in my life than when I was finally able to see my father again. When I was able to hug him again. When I was able to hear his voice again.

Those five days were the worst days of my life.

Not so much so because Franziska's house was eerie and foreign to me, but because my father was gone, and I wasn't sure if I would ever see him again.

I was finally happy after those five days thanks to Phoenix Wright.

But enough about six years ago. Let's talk about now.

I'm Piper Edgeworth. I'm fifteen years old, and I'm the daughter of the famous prosecutor, Miles Edgeworth. My mother died shortly after I was born, so my father is all I have. I can't imagine what would happen if I lost him.

But then again...the saying goes that you never know how good something is until it's gone.