Mia Fey's 4:30 PM Call

On the morning of August 26th, 2012, Diego Armando woke up shivering in Mia Fey's arms.

He had had the strange dream again, the one about him drinking the cold coffee. The fear of such a dream coursed through his bones, and he could barely stand to open his eyes. Mia Fey wrapped her arms around him and stroked his hair, whispered calming words in his ear, kissed his forehead over and over. He simply lay there shivering and let her comfort him. Diego Armando was not one to get scared—least of all from nightmares. Everybody knew that. But this was different. He felt something ominous on the horizon, coming toward him, and he felt it coming quickly. He didn't know what it was and he didn't know what he would do when it got to him, but he kept telling himself the same thing:

"Just make sure that your coffee is always dark and always hot. Then you'll be fine."

That was the solution to everything, he felt. And when he said that to Mia Fey, she smiled at him and nodded her head.

"Yes, that's just what you need to do. Everything will be fine."

Then she kissed his forehead again and held him tighter, because she hated to see him in that kind of state. It made it difficult for her to hide her anguish. But for his sake, she did, and he was comforted by it. No matter what happens, he thought, I'll always have my dark coffee and my kitten. My sweet, pure, beautiful little kitten.

"I'm going to the courthouse again today, Kitten. I have a special meeting"

"All right..."

Diego Armando was up early the next day, August 27th, 2012. Mia Fey was still in bed, half-asleep, as he tied his tie and brewed his special brew.

"You'll never believe who wants to meet me today."

"Hmm...Who?"

"Dahlia Hawthorne. She contacted me last night asking to meet."

At that name, the gears in Mia Fey's head jumped to life. She sat up in bed and stared at him, the color draining from her face.

"And you agreed?"

Diego Armando smiled that crooked smile and ran a hand through his hair.

"Of course I did. This is what we want, isn't it?"

"I don't know," she sighed. She lay back in bed and clasped her hands behind her head. She was staring at the ceiling in the most worried way. "I don't like the sound of it all."

"Come on, Kitten, what's there not to like?"

"I think it's dangerous."

"Like I always say," he laughed, "that's what makes it exciting."

"Right, but Diego, this isn't just a game."

"Stop worrying so much. I'll be fine! I am Diego Armando, after all. Finest attorney at Grossberg Law Offices."

"Well I can't argue with that, now can I?"

"Of course you can't."

"Maybe it could be really good to actually talk to her..."

"Maybe she's finally going to tell the truth," he hissed. "That witch."

"Just make sure you stay on your guard, okay? She's dangerous."

"Yeah, of course."

"Okay..."

"Stop looking so worried, Kitten!"

Diego Armando crawled onto the bed and kissed her lips, his tie still loose and his hair still disheveled.

"All right, all right! Now go shave!" she laughed.

He kissed her one more time and then he tugged on her ear before getting up. Mia Fey watched him, eyes swimming with passion and worry. She didn't want to make him worried too, and she didn't want to overreact, but the idea of him meeting with Dahlia Hawthorne put a pit in her stomach. She hated the idea of it. It made her scared. But she dropped the subject and made herself content with the idea, because she knew that Diego Armando was strong. He was intelligent and confident and witty, and not even Dahlia Hawthorne would get the best of him.

Mia Fey had a surprising amount of trouble convincing herself of that.

"Well, I'm off, Kitten."

"Wait, Diego!"

"Yeah?"

"I...I love you."

Diego Armando smiled at her and put on his jacket.

"I love you too, Mia. More than you'll ever know."

And that was the last time that Diego Armando ever saw Mia Fey, and the last time they were able to say, "I love you" to each other.

Mia Fey had decided to work from home that day.

She sat on her bed with her laptop, papers scattered all over the sheets, going through the motions. She hadn't been able to find the energy to get out of bed even once that day. It was already three thirty in the afternoon, and she had been in the exact same position. She had gotten a text from Diego Armando at three, telling her that things were going well. He was about to go into his meeting with Dahlia Hawthorne. Everything was perfect. Mia Fey hadn't had enough strength to text him back. She told herself that she would wait until he came home, and then she would break down and tell him just how worried she had been.

And he would come home, she reminded herself. He would.

A single hour passed. At four thirty PM, Mia Fey received a phone call. It was from an unfamiliar number.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mia Fey?"

"Yes."

"You're friends with Diego Armando, aren't you?"

Mia Fey stood up from the bed and stared out of the window.

"...Yes."

And then, Mia Fey's entire world fell apart. Everything crumbled. And it all crumbled on top of her, leaving her bloody and gasping for air beneath the rubble. As soon as they mentioned his name, she knew. Her worries, her fears, the absolute worst scenario that could have happened...happened. All of the darkness that had been stirring in her heart when he told her he was going to meet Dahlia Hawthorne rose up to the surface of her being. She held the phone against her ear as the woman on the other line explained, and her hand trembled more than it had ever trembled before. She could hardly keep her grasp on it. Her entire body was frozen in fear and agony.

"Hello? Are you still there?"

"Diego..."

"I'm so sorry. Maybe you should come down to the courthouse—"

Before the woman on the other line could finish, Mia Fey threw her phone against the wall and began pulling at her hair. She fell to her knees, hyperventilating as her vision became blurry and her mind caved in on itself. His face swam in the tears on her eyelids. Then, blinking away the stinging tears, Mia Fey began to scream.

"Diego!"

And that was how the beautiful six-month relationship of Diego Armando and Mia Fey ended: a single drop of poison in a cup of coffee that was too cold.

For months, Mia Fey screamed and had nightmares and mourned.

But she refused to cry. She wouldn't let herself. Not then, at least.

"The only time a lawyer can cry is when it's all over."

His words never stopped echoing in her head, even as he lay comatose in a hospital bed. Even as the world began to forget the fierce love that used to define it, Mia Fey never forgot those words. She never forgot his voice. And she never forgot about the one who ruined her life.

Epilogue: When It's All Over

It was April 10, 2013, when Mia Fey decided to go back to the courtroom.

"Mr. Grossberg, can I come in?"

"Of course, Mia darling, have a seat."

"Thank you."

"What can I do for you?"

She sat in a small, uncomfortable chair behind the large desk. Marvin Grossberg sat on the other side, breathing in and out heavily, watching her with beady eyes sparkling behind tiny spectacles. Her face was more determined than he had ever seen it in the past eight months.

"You're going into trial tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, I am," he nodded.

"The case against Phoenix Wright?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"Mr. Grossberg, if you don't mind, I'd like to take that case."

"You'd like to what?"

"I want to defend Mr. Wright."

Mia Fey's voice never faltered, not even for a single moment.

The large man put his hands on his stomach and leaned back in his chair. The buttons were nearly coming off of his jacket. He played with his mustache for a few moments, watching her face and squinting his eyes.

"Mia, I'm not sure about this..."

"Let me handle the case," she urged. This was the moment she had been waiting for. For eight months, she had been praying for an opportunity like this. "Please, Mr. Grossberg. I need to do this."

He sighed, stared at her for a couple moments longer, and then he pushed a pile of papers across the desk toward her.

"There's all of the case information. Trial starts at ten tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Mr. Grossberg," Mia Fey sighed. "Thank you."

She took the papers back to her desk and she hastily flipped through them. Finally, her eyes fell upon the witness profile. The one that made her heart boil.

"Dahlia Hawthorne," she murmured under her breath. "The defendant's girlfriend and the victim's ex-girlfriend."

You're not going to escape this time. I will win. For Diego.

"Not guilty."

Mia Fey watched Dahlia Hawthorne being led away with handcuffs on her wrists and felt the only surge of happiness she had felt in eight months. It filled her from her toes up to her mouth, which curved into a genuine smile of relief. She had done it—she had put Dahlia Hawthorne where she belonged and had revealed the truth (at least, she had revealed enough of the truth). Mia Fey knew, even though Dahlia Hawthorne's trial wasn't for a while, that she would be found guilty. Dahlia Hawthorne would be sentenced to death. She knew from the tingling in her spine that it would happen, and that would mean that everything was over. She had taken her revenge for Diego Armando.

That evening, as Mia Fey curled up in bed, she sobbed.

It was the first time she had cried since Diego Armando's collapse. But she let herself do it, because it was all over. Dahlia Hawthorne was gone. A lawyer can only cry when it's all over. So Mia Fey buried her face in her pillow and struggled to breathe and choked on her own tears. She didn't get a single moment of sleep. The tears kept flowing, tears that had been building for eight months, and they stained her cheeks. She felt Diego Armando's fingers brushing them away and then she felt his lips on hers, could smell the scent of coffee in his breath. But she knew that he wasn't truly there.

"It's all over, Diego."

Is it?

"Yes."

Then cry, Kitten. Cry.

So she cried. But the next day she was smiling.

Because a lawyer is someone who smiles no matter how bad it gets.