The
~ Tiffany Shift
~
Story
By Taylor B.
(Court Records Username: Sabrina
Ellis)
Chapter One
There was a sense
that almost any passerby could pick up when striding by a particular
room in the Prosecutors’ Office on that fateful morning. Within the four walls of this room, a story
was long in the making. From the moment
that the resident inside its confines was born, the first word was elegantly
written in invisible ink upon the pages of her destiny. Had she only possessed
the key to flipping through its contents sooner, the journey might not have
been as hard.
September
15th,
Prosecutors’
Office
Tiffany Shift’s Office
Sitting
behind her expensive desk within the lavish office, a young prosecutor skimmed
through the pages of an investigation run by some detectives in the local precinct. She frowned slightly at its mediocrity and
looked closer at the list of investigators, finding the source of the
problem. It had been headed up by none
other than detective Dick Gumshoe.
“This
explains everything, then,” she mumbled while tossing the file onto the desk.
“I’ll see to it they dock his pay for this.”
Her cold eyes shot to the suddenly symbolic trashcan. “At this rate, that’s where his career is
headed anyhow.”
“Who,
Gumshoe?” a male voice sounded from the doorway. Another one of the younger prosecutors had
appeared there, slipping into his position almost in complete silence. “He’s not exactly what you might call the
cream of the crop, but I doubt his work will hinder your case.”
The
young woman turned to meet him, not surprised by his presence. It was almost as if it was a manner of his
that she had adjusted to.
“Miles,”
she said softly yet in a strong tone, “shouldn’t you be somewhere else, at the
moment? I could have sworn you had Heybird’s
trial.”
Miles
Edgeworth’s eyes widened a bit with surprise at the woman’s last
statement. Everyone in the office had
heard that the trial was moved to tomorrow.
Her being out of the loop was unnatural.
Peaked with a bit
of newfound curiosity, he moved further into the room, taking a seat on the
leather couch near the desk. He leaned
over and snatched the file sitting on it, perused through it for a few seconds,
and chuckled before placing it back where it was.
“Perhaps
what I said before is wrong,” Edgeworth smirked. “Your case may be sunk after all, Shift. You’ve got about as much useful information
there as bad marks on your record of practice.”
What he would say next was part of the reason he had came to visit his colleague,
but hesitation got the better of him, until at last he spoke. “Speaking of which—”
“Not
another word!” Tiffany Shift shouted, slamming the desk and rising out of her
seat. He should have predicted as
much. Her eyes narrowed and voice
lowered in volume to that of an icy whisper as she leaned toward the fellow
prosecutor. “Don’t you even think of
letting a word of yesterday slip out of your mouth, especially when it comes to
this office, and even more so when it comes to this room.”
There
was a mournful silence for a minute, though the only possible thing to have
died would have been Edgeworth’s next remark.
Tightening his lips into a small frown, he pulled a little envelope from
his pocket and placed it on Tiffany’s desk.
“It’s
from… well, I’m sure you know,” he spoke evasively, his eyes darting every
which way but at Tiffany directly. “I
don’t think he hates you completely.”
Tiffany’s
eyes became warm as they welled up with tears.
She had wished he would not have said another word on the subject, but
that envelope made it an unavoidable task.
At least he had done it with some respect.
“I
can’t open that and claim to be ethical at the same time,” she proclaimed,
pushing it away and wiping the tears from her eyes. The facial expression Edgeworth gave in
response was perhaps the most confusing look of astonishment and disgust she
had ever seen. His mixed gaze stared
directly into her eyes, accomplishing its goal.
“I’m
sorry, I must have heard you wrong. Did you just call yourself ethical?” He raised his voice as his anger built its
way up from the pit of his stomach to his throat. “You’ve played just as filthily as every
other tainted higher-up in this office, so don’t start throwing your morals at
me. You’re no exception.”
Flustered,
Tiffany flung herself against the wall behind her and covered her face with
sweaty hands. Splitting two fingers, one
tired eye peered out at Edgeworth as she spoke in a muffled voice.
“Don’t
you think I regret that, Miles?” she whimpered.
“The things I’ve done – jeez, my entire career – it just makes me sick
to my stomach.”
Edgeworth’s
eyes widened slightly. “What on earth is
up with all your attacks of conscience, lately?
Nothing even fazed you until—!”
“Yesterday,
I know!” she shouted. “Get the hell out
of here, already! I don’t want to see
you anymore.” She put down her hands now
wet from tears and glared the investigation report on her desk. “I have a trial to prepare for.”
Edgeworth
shrugged, his face turning back to its typical emotionless state. He had displayed enough of an array to fill
his quota for the day.
“Fine,”
he mumbled. Rising from the leather
couch, he plucked the envelope up off the desk and moved to pocket it. “I do think I’ll take the document with me,
then. After all, you are too ethical to
take a look at the last thing he had to say… before you killed him.”
A
sharp crack split the air about them in two.
Before Tiffany was aware of her own actions, she had struck Edgeworth
clear across the face. Edgeworth winced,
instantly sending a weak glare her way.
He licked the little trickle of blood that worked its way out from a
small split formed on his upper lip.
Once
conscious of her own actions, Tiffany let out a gasp and drew her hands over
her mouth. She stared on with a
petrified expression plastered upon her face.
How could she have done something like that to him?
“M-Miles!” She reached out to him with trembling hands. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Of
course you didn’t,” he sighed and looked at his shoes. “It’s quite alright. I was out of line and became a bit
insensitive with that comment of mine. I
suppose you could say I had it coming.”
Still
feeling guilty despite her colleague’s comfort, she fit herself for a frown and
opted for silence over saying any more.
Her weary gaze traced the pattern of Edgeworth’s uniform footsteps as he
quietly made his way out of her office.
However, before he vanished from the doorway, she could not help but
call out.
“Wait!”
she exclaimed, successfully stopping him.
“I… I want that envelope. It’s
only right that I look inside it. If I’m
suddenly changing into someone who gives a care about the people whose lives I
destroy, it’s only right I hear him out.”
Edgeworth
gave a small smile at this, turning half way around. He folded the envelope slightly to improve
its aerodynamics and sent it flying towards Tiffany. “Good catch,” he mused as she snatched it out
of the air. “I’m sure it’s something
nice.”
Tiffany
nodded with a faint smile and watched him turn and go. Slowly, she walked two fingers along the
outline of its rectangular frame and tore it open.
“Here
goes nothing,” she muttered. Quickly,
she grasped its contents, letting the envelope itself fall onto the desk. “A letter…?”
She could only assume he wanted to chew her out for what she had
done. It was her fault that a very sweet
and truly innocent man like him was on death row in the first place.
Suddenly
deprived of strength, her legs gave out on her and sent her smacking down into
her seat. She read the letter several
times over. Each time it became more and
more difficult to believe. One part in
particular sent her brain directly into the wood chipper.
I know you know I’m not really guilty, and
the real killer was in the courtroom that day.
It’s strange of me to ask a prosecutor this but, could you see your way
to filing for an appeal and defending me?
Please understand. You know why.
Defend him? That poor soul wanted the one who sent him to
his eventual death to defend
him? She had not the slightest clue why,
even though he seemed to be claiming she did.
That is, until it all hit her. It
was all falling into place, piece by piece, as Tiffany saw her future unfold
before her. That episode she had
directly after yesterday’s trial had been the now obvious start.
September
14th,
District
Court
Courtroom Number 5
The
trial had been a fairly easy win, being as the defense was far from seasoned
and the case simplistic enough to turn in her favor. As Tiffany turned to leave the courtroom, the
sounds of the defendant screaming of his innocence was loud and clear. It had not been the first time that had
happened, but she was not extremely experienced in her career and had yet to
encounter such as man as that. He was
not like the others who had cried for his own selfish sake. He was worried sick for his two little
children.
“I’m
all they have left!” he cried as the bailiff moved to restrain him. “Please, don’t take me away from my
babies! They’re so young! They need me, please! Oh, please, don’t take me away from my
babies!”
Tiffany
had frozen in place with her back facing the defendant who wriggled in the
bailiff’s grasp. She knew he was
innocent and the attorney defending him had meant an easy victory for her, but
for once, it was a man who should not have been heartlessly wronged. She had manipulated the system for her own
greed.
Upon that
realization, every instance in which she got the innocent declared guilty – no
matter how admirable or disgusting their character was – flashed before her
eyes in a horrifying and blinding fashion.
He was surely not the first innocent person to be convicted by her
doing. How many others could have
suffered an undeserving fate? The possibilities
made an electrifying shiver run up her spine.
“No!”
she cried, whipping herself around to see the man’s crying eyes. “Frederick Chance is innocent, Your Honor!”
The
judge had almost disappeared from the courtroom by that time, only to stop and
scowl at her exclamation. “Miss Shift,
please don’t mock my decisions,” he huffed before leaving. She knew it was too late for her to change
anything, but could not admit it.
“No,
no, no!” she screamed, falling to her knees as Chance was dragged out of the
courtroom. “What have I done!?” Horrible thoughts of the future of Chance’s
children raced through her mind. She
could see his ghost haunting her for the rest of her life, forever whispering
of her sins in her ear. It was too much
to just contain.
As
the last of the people cleared the courtroom, she remained on all fours on the floor. Her eyes were shut tight and tears mixed with
mascara splashed in semi-translucent black splotches on the floor. In an instant, the few years of her career
had gotten crushed and collapsed on top of her heart.
Edgeworth
had been watching the trial and saw everything happen just as he thought it
would. He had looked at the files of
that case while in Tiffany’s office the day before, an action that had become
commonplace for ever new assignment she received. He knew before the trial was over Chance he
was innocent, but if she played her cards right, she would have been able to
secure a guilty verdict anyhow.
It
was either going to go one of two ways, he figured. She could gain strength as a prosecutor and
learn to have a stiff upper lip, allowing the profession to erode her
sensitivity to the matter. Then, on the
other hand, she could be unable to handle it and break down on the spot. When the latter happened, he knew what he had
to say. He was never really her friend,
but even as an acquaintance, it was the only right thing to do.
“Get
up, Shift,” he snapped without compassion.
The classic chilled voice of a true prosecutor flowed throughout his
voice. “A prosecutor does not lay on the
floor in a teary disgrace. Show some respect
for your people.”
Tiffany
slowly turned her head to meet his unpleasant face. Her heart sank a little further down,
surprising herself with the fact that she could feel even worse. Not sure of what to neither say or wanting to
speak in the first place, she remained where she was and tried to slow her
tears. She must have looked like a fool.
Bending
down slightly, he extended his hand for her to take. He did not look sympathetic, and thankfully
the last thing Tiffany was looking for was mindless sympathy. She stared at his hand for a moment in
silence, debating whether to take it or just scramble to her feet and bolt for
the doors. Before she could decide, he spoke once more, his next words digging
deep down into her mind.
“Perhaps
you shouldn’t be a prosecutor,” he hissed sharply, intending the words to stick
to her as strongly as they could.
Not
knowing whether to take offense or concur, she finally took his hand and let
him help her up. There were a thousand
and one things Tiffany could have said, but decided it best not to say a
word. She remained silent as she left
the courtroom in brisk walk, leaving Edgeworth standing there with a knowing
smirk upon his face.
September
15th, 10:02 AM
Prosecutors’
Office
Tiffany Shift’s Office
With
the letter gripped in her hand and Edgeworth’s words rekindled in her thoughts,
that key to her destiny began to materialize within arm’s reach. The pen began to scratch words in its
invisible ink furiously now, page upon page filling itself in her book of
destiny.
“Perhaps…
you shouldn’t be… a prosecutor,” she muttered quietly, deep in thought. Her
eyes bugged out more and more the further she progressed with the idea. “You… shouldn’t be a…” Just then, the last piece to the puzzle
popped into place.
Quickly,
she yanked open the top draw of her desk and grabbed her cell phone. She dialed Edgeworth’s number, each ring
ending without answer driving her heart to beat faster. When he finally picked up, Tiffany was ready
to keel over.
“Miles
Edgeworth, Prosec—”
“Who’s
that defense attorney you’re always talking about?” she snapped in a
hurry. She made it sound like more of an
official demand than a spastic exclamation, much to her relief. “What’s the name of his office, Miles? I need to know sometime this era.”
Edgeworth
chuckled inwardly. He saw this coming
and figured it to be just a matter of time until she would say that. It was true that he had wanted to savor the
moment for his own amusement, but he chose to comply with her wishes and answer
quickly.
“You’re
thinking of Phoenix Wright of Wright and Co. Law Offices,” he replied coolly. “He’s defending in the postponed Heybird trial, so he should be free now. Do you want the number and address? I have it in my cell—”
“No,
I’ll just search it online and…” Tiffany blinked. Somehow, Edgeworth had known she was planning
much more than a simple phone call. “How
did you know I was even going to go there?”
she asked, stunned.
Edgeworth
laughed again, this time out loud. “Call
it a prosecutor’s intuition,” he replied smugly. He could not help but take advantage of the
moment, knowing the exact revelation Tiffany was having. “It’s something you’ll never understand, I
take it?”
Not
amused, Tiffany hung up on him and searched for the information on the
internet. Once it was added in her phone,
she put on her coat and scrolled down to the desired number, pressing the call
button with a bit more force than needed.
By the time she ran out of her office and locked the door, she had
Phoenix Wright on the other line.
“Hello,
Mr. Wright? This is Tiffany Shift, a
colleague of Edgeworth’s.” Her voice
sounded almost happy and kept a mellow tone.
She did not want to flash around her rapidly failing ability to keep her
eagerness at bay.
Surprised that she would ever call him,
Phoenix answered incredulously. “Oh, I sort of know you, yeah,” he stammered. The only reason for the call that he could
devise was that Edgeworth was hurt or something to the effect. “I-is everything alright?”
“I’m not exactly
sure,” she admitted with a laugh.
Phoenix had no idea where the humor was in that but did not question
it. “Are you expecting anyone
soon?” She was beginning to sound as if
she were coming over his place for tea and cookies.
Still at a loss,
Phoenix glanced at the calendar atop his desk and saw nothing penned in red for
the day. “No, I’m not obligated by
anything,” he spoke slowly and with honesty.
“Great then, I’ll
be coming over within the hour.” A faint
laugh was still evident in her voice. “I
have to talk to you about something, but first I need to convince myself this
is reality as I know it.” Allowing for
no more conversation, she hung up on the confused Phoenix Wright and glided with
determination towards her car. Visions
of herself donning an attorney’s badge and defending Chance paraded happily
through her head.