~ Fifteen Years Ago ~

The boy stood in a circle of jeering classmates. An empty envelope sat on a table beside him.

"I… I didn't do it!" the boy said, trying to keep from breathing hard. He held one arm defensively in front of him.

"Guilty!"
"He did it!"
"Guilty!"
"It was you!"

"Quiet, everyone," the teacher said, looking at each student in turn. "When someone is accused of a crime, people hold a trial to determine whether they're guilty or not."

Pushing the last furniture into place, the teacher gestured at two desks put together, on one side of the classroom. The desks were arranged to form a crude facsimile of a courtroom, including a witness stand (a chair turned backwards), prosecution's table, and defense bench. The teacher's desk was where the Judge would sit.

"Miles," the teacher said, looking at another boy, standing apart from the table with the envelope. "Because your money was stolen, I have a treat for you. You can be the prosecutor!"
The boy nodded, bowed to the teacher, and took his place at the desks.
The teacher explained, "The job of a prosecutor is to try and prove the guilt of the accused. The defense attorney defends the accused, and tries to prove their innocence."

The teacher looked over the class. "Does anyone want to represent the accused, Phoenix?"

Silence.

The teacher slowly turned, and looked at Phoenix. "I'm sorry, Phoenix… but it looks as though you stand alone."

Phoenix didn't say anything. Following the teacher's gesture, he silently walked over to the 'defense bench'. He wouldn't look at anyone.

The teacher took his seat at the desk. "At the start of the trial, the prosecution makes an opening statement as to what they think happened, and why the accused is guilty." He looked over at Miles.

Miles looked over at Phoenix, at the scared-looking boy across from him. He lifted his arm, made to reach out for a second… and then let it drop, taking a deep breath as he began.
"At the start of the month, everyone brings in lunch money in an envelope. My money, 38 dollars, was stolen today during P.E. class. Be— because Phoenix was absent from P.E. because of a cold…" His voice slowed down, as he tried to think how to say what was coming next. "…the class believes Phoenix took it."

"Just admit you did it!"
"Yeah! He stole Miles's money!"

Phoenix took a ragged breath. His eyes glinted with moisture, but he held it back, shaking his head. "N-no…" he said. "I didn't…"

"Quiet, class," the teacher said, looking back at Miles. "Once a prosecutor has made an opening statement, he calls witnesses that he thinks can help prove the accused's guilt."

Miles tensed. He almost clenched his fists, saying, "But—" before biting it back.

"Then, the defense cross-examines the witness to see if their story is true," the teacher added, looking over at Phoenix. He returned his gaze to the 'prosecution'. "Is there anyone you'd like to call as a witness, Miles?"

Miles didn't answer. He had his eyes closed.

"In that case…" the teacher said, rising from his desk to select a girl from the class surrounding the two boys. "Emily will be our witness for today."

Miles clenched his jaw as the teacher led Emily to the 'witness stand'. Once she was there, the teacher went on. "Emily, tell the class why you think Phoenix is guilty."

~~~~~TESTIMONY~~~~~

"I was in P.E., but Phoenix was out with a cold. I think everyone else was there. The money only vanished during P.E., so Phoenix must have taken it!"

~~~~~END~~~~~

The teacher turned to Phoenix. The boy had both his arms raised now, as if to ward off the girl's testimony.
"Phoenix, now it's your turn. During cross-examination, the defense tries to prove parts of the witness's statements wrong. He can ask for more information if he needs it… Phoenix?"

Phoenix's head was bowed. He leaned forward, shaking as tears flowed down his cheeks.

The teacher looked at Phoenix for a few seconds, then asked, "Uh, Phoenix… you're not going to respond to her statement?"

Sobs.

The teacher sighed. "I see." He looked at the students watching, silently. "Once one side or the other is out of arguments, the judge delivers the verdict," he explained.
On the other side of the room, Miles started to shake as he watched, grinding his teeth.

He looked back at the boy. "Phoenix, you need to apologize to Miles, for stealing his money, and to the class. In addition—"

"OBJECTION!"

Miles Edgeworth slammed his hand on the table with all the force he could muster.
"He shouldn't have to apologize!" he yelled at the teacher. "The only thing that belongs in a trial is proof! Evidence! Everything else has no place!"
"Miles—" the teacher began, but Miles kept yelling.

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves!" he said, head turning to scan the whole class. Then, he looked at Phoenix.
"It wasn't you who stole my money, was it?" Miles asked.

"N-no…" Phoenix said, almost too soft to hear. He was still crying, silently.
"Then you shouldn't apologize!" Miles yelled. "Everyone's been shouting you did it, but no one's got any proof!"

"B-but Miles, it was your money that was stolen—" the teacher said.

"Yeah!" another student chimed in.
"We don't need proof! No one else could have done it!" shouted a third.

From the back of the classroom, a girl's voice boomed, "Why don't y'all just shut up!"
It was Lotta, her worn-out jeans and fiery red hair instantly recognizable. "Y'all are just ganging up on him, but it ain't fair! Half of you gang up on me sometimes! You think that's justice? He said it ain't him, so it ain't him!"

Miles took her opening and ran with it. "Lotta is right," he said. "Accused people are supposed to have a fair trial. And… part of that is, 'innocent until proven guilty'." He pointed at the teacher. "Your Honor! There is no evidence! This boy is innocent!"

"Quiet, everyone—" said the teacher, but even he couldn't stop the three-way argument that was brewing. Finally, he slammed the covers of a book together.

"Enough! I will speak with Miles's father about replacing the money." The teacher took a breath. "This class trial is over."

Miles Edgeworth and Lotta Hart ran to Phoenix. Phoenix had run out of tears, but still looked at the floor, saying nothing.
"Phoenix! Are you OK?" Miles said.
"Y'allright?" Lotta asked. "You look like… um…"
No response.

"Phoenix?"
"Phoenix!"
"Phoenix…"

~ Present Day ~ Defendant Lobby No. 3 ~

"—Phoenix!"