Solange Radcliffe wanted to find the magic in her world.

It existed, at least on some level. She knew that spirit mediums existed, and that certain people had abilities that seemed to be beyond human. Whether it was realized through technology or artifacts, there had to be some kind of magic laying dormant in the world.

Said magic seemed to be tied to the legal system, somehow. Ever since a spirit medium had channeled a spirit to testify in a certain case, Solange had found herself fascinated with the peculiarities of the legal system. That event, combined with the gift of a peculiar compact from her missing father, gave her a two-fold purpose: explore the legal system and find the magic in the world.

As the situation currently stood, Solange wasn’t actually doing a whole lot of looking for anything, whether it was magic or evidence. Officially, she was on hiatus and not taking any cases for the foreseeable future. After what had happened last month, she felt she was in no position to take on any clients. The fiasco had left her thoroughly demoralized. It was a case that she felt compelled to take due to the parties involved, and while the odds were stacked against her to begin with, she didn’t expect the results to be as catastrophic as they were.

A young woman named Daisy Thorne was accused of murdering her mother, Sidney Thorne. All the evidence pointed to her, and the case seemed fairly open and shut. Still, Solange wanted to defend her.

In the detention center, there was a woman with pale blonde hair and a simple ink splatter-pattern shirt sitting behind the glass. Solange was quick to check on her. “Daisy, are you okay?”

“As okay as I can be, I guess,” Daisy responded dryly. “They’ve given me food and a place to sleep, and that’s probably all I need.” She paused and gave Solange a sidelong look. “Why would you defend someone they’re saying killed your mentor, anyway?”

Solange shook her head. “That’s not the point. I know you, Daisy. You’re not the type who would murder your mother, no matter how bad things got. I want to get to the bottom of this.”

Daisy huffed and continued avoiding eye contact. “Are you sure about that? You know that things could get pretty heated between me and Mom.”

Nodding in understanding, Solange continued. “I am sure. No matter how bad things were, you wouldn’t put everything at risk like this. I know you’re better than that.”

“Of course,” Daisy said, just a bit too loudly. “Thank you, Solange. It means so much that you’re willing to do this for me.”

The evidence pointed to a fairly long, drawn-out conflict where Sidney took a good deal of hits from the killer. The killing blow was a decisive bludgeon to the head with a frying pan that bore Daisy’s fingerprints; after Sidney’s death, she slammed into the glass door in the back of the house, and the culprit broke the glass with the pan. It was at that point that the killer was said to have fled through the new opening. Bloody shoe prints from a pair of Daisy’s shoes were found along the porch and on pieces of the broken glass, which was considered condemning enough by itself.

Solange swore that Prosecutor Owen Brand was one of the most generic-looking men she had ever laid eyes on. However, she didn’t have time to look for anything that would make him distinct, as he was throwing evidence down on the table. “The defendant’s bloody shoe prints were found exiting from the inside of the house to the porch. Before you ask, we have not been able to identify anyone else who could have worn the shoes.”

“That’s an important point!” Solange called out, slamming both hands on the desk. “There’s really no way there could have been someone else wearing Daisy’s shoes?”

“Unless you have evidence, you shouldn’t be trying to push that theory,” Brand said, folding his arms.

Daisy’s fingerprints were on the murder weapon, which was fairly decisive. Still, there had to be something Solange could use to prove that someone else committed the crime. “There are so many unknowns in this case,” she mused aloud. “The prosecution holds that Daisy had to be attacking from inside the house in order for the crime scene to be laid out like it was. It’s not possible that someone else was attacking from inside at all, or that the scene was tampered with so that it looked like the attack was done inside the house, is it?”

“Are you going to do something with this, Ms. Radcliffe, or are you going to keep going on about what isn’t there?” Brand’s face was difficult to read, almost mask-like. He was either very focused, or he considered this case to be already done with and was bored.

A faint whiff of burning made its way through the courtroom as the compact on Solange’s hair bow began to smoke. She grunted in frustration and dragged a hand down her face. “There’s… nothing I can do yet.”

Even without evidence, Solange kept challenging the premises of the case. Why was so much missing? There seemed to be no proof that anyone else could have been in the house However, Brand had a vital testimony saved for last, and this witness would be Solange’s undoing.

“The prosecution would like to call Mary Rillys to the stand.”

An average-looking older woman with dark, loosely-curled hair and muddy brown eyes came to the stand, her hands fiddling with her green apron as she did so. Prosecutor Brand put his hands in his pockets as he addressed the witness. “Witness, name and occupation for the court, please.”

“Mary Rillys, stay-at-home mom,” the woman said, still fiddling with her apron. She seemed reluctant to just let it sit. “Haven’t really had an occupation for a long time now.”

“Fair enough,” Brand said. “Mrs. Rillys, please testify about what you saw on the night of the murder.”

“All right then. Here goes.” There was a brief pause, and then Mary began her testimony. “I was standing on my porch late last night, looking at the stars. I heard a loud crash coming from the direction of Sidney’s house, and I looked over there to see Daisy running out of the house with the frying pan in her hand. She went into the area full of trees near our house, and I didn’t see her come out for a good fifteen minutes. During that time, I went over to see what had happened, and then I saw Sidney’s body. I then promptly called the police.”

“That seems to fit in with the story of the crime as we know it,” the judge said. “The defense may begin her cross examination.”

“Understood, Your Honor.” Solange folded her arms, her hands tensing around the sleeves of her jacket. The situation was looking grim, though there were a few points she could press on. “What were you doing out so late in the first place?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Mary answered. “I wanted to count the stars to help me sleep, so I went out.”

“Couldn’t you just count the stars from a window inside?” Solange tilted her head slightly.

“Not really, with the way things are positioned in the house, no.”

Across the courtroom, Brand arched an eyebrow. “Ms. Radcliffe, are you trying to say there’s something inherently suspicious about being outside late at night?”

“Well, it’s not exactly common,” Solange said meekly. The claim really didn’t hold water. “I suppose I’ll move on, then. So, Mrs. Rillys, you didn’t see the moment of the actual murder, did you? You only saw Daisy running out of the house with the pan, and Ms. Thorne’s body.”

“That’s true, but it’s pretty easy to infer what happened there, right?” Mary said. “Don’t you have evidence connecting everything together?”

“Indeed we do,” Brand said. “The defendant’s fingerprints were on the murder weapon, as was the victim’s blood. The evidence and testimony speak to each other. Even if the precise moment of the murder wasn’t witnessed, it’s still fairly clear what happened: the defendant used the pan to bludgeon the victim, then broke the glass door and ran out of the house. That’s what’s important.”

“Do you really think there’s no other way that the prints could have gotten on the frying pan? Perhaps it was used earlier in the day, and the culprit didn’t leave any prints due to wearing gloves?” It sounded like a viable solution to Solange.

“Evidence, Ms. Radcliffe, evidence,” Brand said, his voice heavy with condescension. “Do you have proof that there was a third party with these gloves?”

Desperation spreading on her face, Solange opened her court record and began to flip through it. Nothing seemed to contradict the testimony: not the frying pan, not the autopsy report, not the shards of glass, not the bloody shoe prints. Even if there were gaps in the testimony that seemed odd, there was nothing she could do to decisively strike against them. “There were no gloves found at the scene, correct?” Brand shaking his head settled the matter. “No. There’s no proof of a third party.”

It was the judge’s turn to shake his head next. “Ms. Radcliffe, I must ask that you avoid speculation without anything to back it. It makes you look like you’re stalling for time.”

Solange opened her mouth to say something, and nothing came out at first. “Th-There’s got to be something,” she stammered quietly.

“I don’t believe there is,” Brand said, shrugging. “The evidence says it all.”

The judge gave a gavel pound that made Solange jump. “I believe the court has heard all it needs to hear,” he said. “The defense has not presented any sort of evidence to prove that the defendant did not commit the crime. Any further deliberation would be delaying the inevitable.”

A hollow breeze blew through the courtroom, taking the scent of smoke with it. Solange’s fists were clenched tight at her sides. She forced herself to turn the case over and over in her mind, but no matter what she came up with, there was no evidence to support her theories. There was nothing she could do but look up at the judge as he brought the gavel down. “This court finds the defendant, Daisy Thorne, guilty.” With the slam of the gavel, Solange gave a startled yelp. “Hmm? Is everything alright, Ms. Radcliffe?”

A puff of smoke had burst from her compact at the moment of the gavel slam, covering Solange’s face in soot. Silently, she wiped some of the soot off her face, looking at her hand before responding to the judge. “My apologies, Your Honor. I, um, didn’t expect that to happen.”

“The verdict, or that small explosion you just went through?” The judge’s eyes were wide, questioning.

“The explosion,” Solange mumbled, trying to brush some soot out of her hair. “The verdict was a foregone conclusion.”

Solange didn’t remember how the trial wrapped up from there. She was in a daze from the moment she left the courtroom till roughly two days after, when she decided to turn in an official leave of absence notice and take a hiatus. She wasn’t ready to quit practicing law just yet, but after such an incredibly poor showing, her confidence had been shattered. Taking the risk of a repeat defeat was not worth it to her.

The days since the beginning of her hiatus felt hollow, as though she was going through the motions of everyday life with her mind partly shut down. She would sometimes wander through town, casting an empty gaze on the courthouse and lingering with a sense of longing. There was one other place she found herself drawn to, however: the Wright Anything Agency. Before the mess with Daisy had occurred, Solange had been in the gallery for several cases concerning the “Dark Age of the Law.”

Solange had watched Phoenix Wright and his proteges unmask several culprits, liberate the doomed Simon Blackquill, and capture an international spy. She couldn’t help but feel a certain admiration for the lawyer trio and how steadfast they were in pursuit of the truth. They did their duty with panache, even if they hit several stumbling blocks along the way. When she saw them in court, it felt like everything was going to be okay in the world if such bright sparks were leading the way.

Solange had never actually gone into the Wright offices, but she spent an awful lot of time sitting on a bench across the way from it and sneaking furtive glances at the lawyers as they entered and exited on various errands. Today, Solange was doing just this, blankly staring at the door of the Wright Anything Agency as her thoughts swam around in her mind.

She must have zoned out thoroughly for a moment, because soon she became aware of someone talking, and a hand waving in front of her face. “Hello? Are you okay?”

Solange blinked and gasped, pulling away from the hand that was very close to her face. When her vision re-focused, she saw that Apollo Justice was standing in front of her. “Oh, um, hello,” she said awkwardly. Up close and personal like this, she couldn’t deny that Apollo was kind of cute. Shame that he was a bit too young for her.

“Hi there,” Apollo said, putting his hands in his pockets. “You’ve been coming here a lot, haven’t you?”

“I guess,” Solange mumbled. “Is it that noticeable now?” The notion of having been caught sitting and staring was embarrassing.

Apollo shifted his weight and looked back over towards the building. “We’ve seen you sitting on this bench every day for the past several days. We’re all kind of worried. Are you waiting for someone, or…?”

“No.” Solange sighed. “If I told you that I feel comfortable here, would that sound weird?”

“Mm, maybe a little?” Apollo said, putting his finger to his forehead in thought. “Can I ask why?”

“Mr. Justice, I’ve watched you and your cohorts in court,” Solange said. “You, Mr. Wright, and Ms. Cykes are all very inspiring. You really don’t ever give up. There’s a sense of earnestness to you all that gives me faith in the world, even as things try to convince me there’s no point.”

“Huh, wow, didn’t know we’d started getting fans,” Apollo said with an flattered smile. “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome,” Solange said back. She was about to say more, but she was interrupted by another figure coming out of the Wright Anything Agency and running up to her and Apollo.

Athena Cykes sped up to the duo, grinning broadly. “Hey there! Apollo, did you find out who she is?”

“Um, actually, I didn’t quite-”

“Solange Radcliffe,” Solange said, cutting Apollo off. “Ah, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Apollo grumbled.

“Oh, hey! You’re an attorney too, aren’t you? I feel like I’ve seen your name around the courthouse,” Athena said, playing with her moon earring.

“That’s right,” Solange said. “I don’t think I’ll be taking any more cases for a while, though.”

“Why not?” Apollo asked.

“Solange, why don’t you come into the office for a bit? It’ll be easier to talk there,” Athena said, looking back over towards the building. “I have to admit, we’ve all been really curious about you! It’s not every day we see someone staring longingly at our office, except for you the past several days.”

“Thank you for being concerned for me,” Solange said, feeling genuinely touched. “I’d be happy to join you in the office.”

“All righty then!” Athena did an about face, and gestured for Solange and Apollo to follow her. “This way!”

Solange felt her heart speed up as she followed Athena and Apollo into the Wright Anything Agency. Simply being in the same place as those she admired was picking up her spirits, and just as she thought everything would be okay when these attorneys were in court, she felt like the future was brighter from just being around them. This would be a good opportunity to pick the brains of these talented attorneys, and she hoped that some of their brightness would rub off on her.