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Daddy twiddles his thumbs and glances at her nervously. A few minutes ago he’d sat Trucy down across from him in the living room, saying he had something he needed to tell her. That can only mean it’s something personal or something he has strong feelings on. He’s never been very good at being direct when it comes to himself.
“Were you going to tell me some time today or…?” she teased.
He gives her an unimpressed look and says, “So… you know Miles.” He winces at the obviousness. “Recently we’ve been, uh, going on dates. And stuff.”
Trucy smiles wryly. It’s not hard to guess where this is going.
“And we want to start… a relationship,” he says slowly, sheepish and embarrassed. He straightens and focuses his gaze on Trucy. “But you’re the most important person to me, so I wanted to run it by you. I told him and he agreed we won’t make it official until I have your input. You have the final say, okay?”
Trucy’s happy for him. She hasn’t seen him this kind of giddy and hopeful for a while. She’s seen how they would sometimes look at each other when the other couldn’t see. She knows it would make her daddy so, so happy.
That’s why she says without hesitation, “Oh, Daddy… you can’t.”
His face falls before he seems to remember he promised he’d be okay with whatever she said. “O-oh?”
She wants to say she’s sorry, that she knows how important Miles is to him, that she would love if they could be together and everything would turn out perfectly.
But if it didn’t… she doesn’t know how Daddy would handle it. Years ago, an argument over the phone with Mr. Miles would leave Daddy moping for days. If he got that upset just from a hitch in their friendship…
Trucy knows Miles and trusts him, because Daddy does, and Daddy’s known him for so long. But she’s seen vividly over the past year how people who love each other, or claim they do, or are good friends can hurt each other deeply. And knowing someone for a long time can’t change that. It makes it all the worse.
Like Mr. Kristoph.
She doesn’t know what exactly Mr. Kristoph was to him. She knows he was a close friend, someone who spent a lot of time with Daddy, who was nice, who was around when so many of Daddy’s other friends were busy or far away. She knows he took her to school sometimes, helped her with homework, got her small gifts, and made sure Daddy wasn’t lonely.
She also knows he killed her daddy and might’ve killed this daddy too if it ever came to it.
And Daddy never told her about any of it—not even how he could have gotten the envelope with her first daddy’s signature on it.
“You’re sure?” he asks.
Trucy nods. She watches him try to look unaffected.
“Can I ask… why?”
She crosses her arms and glares. “I thought I had the final say.”
“You do! You do,” he says, his hands raised in surrender, “it’s just… not what I expected you to say, to be honest. I thought you and Miles got along great.”
Trucy sighs and smiles sadly. “We do, and I like him, and I think he’s a fine young man,” she throws her daddy a cheeky look like she’s picking him out of the audience for participation. “But I don’t think you’re ready for that.”
Daddy blinks.
“Well, I’ll… let him know, then. Thanks, Trucy, for being honest.”
One of us ought to be… she thinks as she holds back the urge to apologize again.
Instead, she pats him on the arm as she gets up and says, “Maybe when you’re older.”
That weekend, Trucy is sitting in the dark of their living room—she hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights after the late summer sunset a few hours ago. Daddy isn’t home yet. She holds her arms close to herself.
He’s back to being a lawyer. He doesn’t work nights anymore. He doesn’t have a case to investigate.
Did he get hit by a car again? No, he would’ve called her, like last time. Unless he couldn’t call her because he was hurt so badly.
Her leg bounces. Maybe he’s with a friend? Even though he hates being out after like 9 p.m. and would’ve told her if Larry or someone suddenly roped him into going out.
The muffled sound of a car door closing drifts up to the apartment. The much less muffled sound of a car engine as it presumably drives away catches her attention briefly. It’s the growl of an expensive car.
She straightens to alertness moments later when she hears the key slide into the lock. Trucy crosses her arms over her chest and watches her daddy sneak through the door, open only as far as needed to slip inside. He keeps the handle turned as he closes the door to make sure the latch doesn’t clack.
She waits until she hears him turn back around and toe off his shoes, then she carefully reaches over to flick on a lamp.
“ACK! T-Trucy?”
Busted.
“You’re home awfully late, Daddy,” she says pointedly.
“You really didn’t have to wait up for me—”
“Abupbupbup! I’m not done. What were you up to that kept you out this late?”
“I’m sorry?”
Trucy presses on. “You weren’t perhaps with Mr. Edgeworth, were you?”
His eyes slide guiltily away from her face.
“Daddy,” she warns. “I know he just dropped you off. His stupid sports car isn’t exactly quiet.”
“It was just dinner at his house after going over some work stuff I was helping him with. And then we were catching up on some other stuff and chatting, and I guess I lost track of time.”
“Until midnight?”
“Y-yes…”
She narrows her eyes. “A likely story.”
“Trucy, what—”
“Why didn’t you at least tell me you’d be home late?”
“I forgot, I’m sorry. What’s with the interrogation?”
She bristles and tightens her hold on herself, her shoulders hitching toward her ears.
“Well, since I guess you forgot this too, last time you didn’t come home on time after a secret little dinner date with a guy, you ended up in jail, and my daddy was dead, and I found out you lied to me and hid all kinds of stuff from me!”
She swipes away tears. She doesn’t want to hide them for once, but she needs to be able to see him clearly. His face had gone slack and his eyes widened while she spelled out what should’ve been obvious.
“Trucy…”
He quickly crosses the room in long strides and sits next to her on the couch.
Daddy reaches to put an arm around her, but Trucy shrugs it off and turns away.
“I was really scared,” she sniffles, “and you’re lying to me again about something really important, like you don’t even—”
She has to pause to catch her breath, but her voice still comes out too tight. “Like you don’t even care about me.”
He gasps through his teeth. “No, Trucy, I—” he lays a hand on her shoulder. “Look at me, please?”
She bites her quivering lip and turns to face him. Daddy’s not so put together either. His face is pinched, and his eyes are glassy.
“Of course I care about you, Trucy. I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you when I’d be home. I didn’t think about that.”
“But you’re not sorry about your date with Miles after I told you I didn’t think it was a good idea? If I hadn’t caught you, were you going to hide that from me too?”
He ducks his head in shame. “To be honest, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead…”
Figures.
“So you haven’t even told him yet.”
He winces at the accusation. “I was going to. Tonight. But…”
Trucy scoffs and rolls her eyes. She says, stony, “He’s not gonna like that you kept that from him too, you know.”
“No he’s not…” He scrubs his face.
“See, this is what I meant when I said you weren’t ready! I was trying to look out for you.”
“You shouldn’t have to do that, Trucy,” he says into his hands.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t. But here we are.”
He peeks at her between his fingers. He drags one hand off his face and rests his chin in his other hand and sighs.
“Can we talk about this more in the morning? After some sleep? I’ll make you breakfast.”
She is tired, especially from all the time she spent waiting in turmoil, only to find out her daddy was just being an inconsiderate jerk.
Whether his offer is bribery or a truce, she can’t turn down a homemade breakfast.
She stands and smiles down at him sadly. “Okay, Daddy. Good night.”
She pads to her room. She doesn’t hear him get up from the couch while she’s leaving or for a couple minutes after she’s settled under the covers.
She shuffles into the kitchen the next morning. She has to admit this peace offering smells good.
“Just a couple more minutes till it’s ready,” Daddy says over the sound of soft sizzling.
“’Kay.” She grabs a glass from the drying rack and fills it with water before plopping down at the table. It’s going to be a long morning.
After a moment, he slides her a plate of waffles and a smaller plate piled with scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns. She wasn’t expecting he’d escalate to hash browns.
Daddy assembles his own plates and sits across from her, a piece of bacon hanging from his mouth. They eat in silence for a few minutes. Either he doesn’t know how to start, as usual, or he’s strategically waiting till she has enough food to be more awake and agreeable.
She’s halfway through a waffle when he speaks up.
“Seems there’s a thing or two we should probably discuss.”
“Great deduction, Sholmes,” she says through a mouthful.
“Why do you think I shouldn’t be in a relationship with Miles?”
She chews thoughtfully.
“It’s kinda like at school. People will be like, ‘Oh my godddd he’s so sweet, we’re so perfect together,’ and maybe they are, and maybe they’ll make it to a year or two. But something always happens, no matter how long they were together, and sometimes it’s not even some big horrible drama like cheating or whatever that ends it. And then they’re all weird and sad for like, ever, and it makes things super awkward for everyone, especially when it’s your friend because you can’t just say ‘get over it’ because maybe it was super important to them and you could tell they actually really cared about each other.”
Trucy continues, “But it’s also like, why are you acting like your girlfriend was the only thing you had going for you? And it’s even worse when your friend had basically stopped hanging out with you because they were always on dates or busy being all lovey-dovey, so it’s like, ‘Hi, thanks for remembering I exist only when you need a shoulder to cry on.’”
He pauses and takes this in. “I mean, I’d like to think I’m a little more mature than a teenager...”
She looks him dead in the eye. “Sure, like how you were going behind my back and sneaking in at 12:30 last night.”
Daddy purses his lips. He busies himself eating some of his eggs before he can reply. “So you’re worried we’ll break up and it’ll be a huge deal?”
She nods but then tilts her head in thought. “Yeah, kinda. And that it’s all a lot too soon. And you’ll start spending so much time with him, and he’ll be around so much that there’s hardly any time for just us, y’know?”
Right then, knocking comes from the front door. Four rapid knocks. Four rapid efficient knocks.
Daddy slows his chewing and furrows his brows. He doesn’t seem to have expected this either, so that’s about half a point in his favor. He slowly slides out of his seat to get the door.
It better not be who I think it is…
The lock clacks, the handle turns, and
“Edgeworth?!”
Trucy’s fork clatters onto her plate.
“I got your text last night,” Mr. Miles explains. “Then you didn’t answer this morning when I texted you back, so I got worried.”
Trucy tightens her hands into fists on the table and glares toward the door. This is exactly what she was just talking about. He couldn’t have told him he was busy this morning? Did Daddy think this would be a quick, easy chat?
Or did Daddy put him up to this? To try to talk her out of her decision or something?
He leans to look into the apartment. “Is everything alright? Can I come in?”
Daddy throws a panicked glance her way. “Listen, I told you we need to talk, but now’s really not a good time.”
Mr. Miles scoffs. “Then why would you send me such a foreboding—”
“Let him in, Daddy,” she cuts in tersely.
Daddy shuffles on his feet, uncertain. He tells Mr. Miles in hushed tones, “I’m sorry, it’s kind of a... family situation right now.”
“That’s… I can come back later. I didn’t intend to intrude—”
You already have, she thinks but doesn’t say aloud, hanging on to a thread of politeness, so she cuts in again with a caustic, “Daddy.”
Mr. Miles raises his eyebrows at Daddy, apparently surprised to hear her address Daddy with such a tone.
She picks up her fork and stabs a waffle. “Sit down, both of you.”
Mr. Miles’s concerned look bounces between her and Daddy’s faces as Daddy slinks behind him like a dog with its tail between its legs. “Is there something I should know about…?”
Daddy scratches his cheek. He looks to her for a cue. She takes a bite of waffle and doesn’t give him anything. Trucy breathes deeply. It’s not Mr. Miles she’s mad at, completely.
“Why yes, Mr. Edgeworth. Daddy has something he needs to tell you.” She smiles sweetly at her daddy, who’s sinking in his seat. “Don’t you, Daddy?”
He gives her a pleading look. Here? Right now? It says.
She folds her hands onto the table and stares him down sternly. She’s shining the spotlight right in his eyes. Yup. You did this to yourself.
Daddy clears his throat. “Sooo… Miles… Ugh, how do I even...”
They both look at him, Trucy with annoyance, Mr. Miles with nervousness, urging him to go on.
“You know how I said we can’t start a, um, relationship without Trucy’s say-so?”
He grimaces apologetically at Mr. Miles, whose frown deepens as he reaches the only logical conclusion.
“Yes,” he says warily, drawing out the word.
“Well… She doesn’t… approve. I believe her words were that I’m ‘not ready for that.’ So… sorry.”
Mr. Miles stiffens. “You’re… you’re serious? This isn’t an elaborate prank? Or some way for you two to test me?”
Trucy shakes her head solemnly. “I mean it, Mr. Miles. It’s nothing you did, and I think you’re really great. I’m not mad at you. But I really don’t think Daddy should do this.”
Mr. Miles relaxes a fraction, looking at the very least relieved he didn’t offend her. Daddy stays quiet. She knows he knows what’s coming.
“Wright, why didn’t you tell me this yesterday before we—”
Daddy jumps in. “I was going to. I wanted to, anyway. But I…” he shrugs helplessly. “I don’t have a good excuse.”
Mr. Miles sighs like he’s deflating. “I see. We will talk about this later. After you finish talking with your daughter.”
Mr. Miles stands up and pauses. “And Trucy?”
She raises her eyebrows. “Hm?”
“Can I also talk to you later? In private?”
“Um, sure,” she offers.
She didn’t think he’d bother or be interested, after the mess he just saw.
“Thank you,” he says, and leaves the apartment without another word.
After an awkward pause, they go back to eating, Daddy being much slower. He doesn’t look up from his plate, and the only sound in the room is the light crunch of waffles and hash browns being cut up and the scraping of forks on ceramic.
Daddy looks downright miserable. Trucy didn’t exactly want her talk to end up this way either. But she feels tired all over again and needs to recollect herself.
“I’m gonna go take a nap,” she announces. “You should eat up, okay?”
“Okay,” he replies weakly.
She kisses him on the cheek before she heads to her room. She feels a little guilty, even though she’s still mad. She just wishes he’d stop being so… Ugh.
When she comes back into the living room after an hour, he’s sitting slack on the couch, his head tilted back so he’s staring at the ceiling. His eyes follow her, but he doesn’t lift his head.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
Trucy perches on the couch next to him, hugging her knees. “Are you ready for the rest now?”
“I don’t think I have much choice in the matter,” he says through a sigh. He lifts his head up and smiles sadly.
She leans against him. He hesitates and puts an arm around her, and she lets herself huddle closer. He waits until she’s comfortable.
“You said you wouldn’t want me spending less time with you just so I could spend time with Edgeworth, right?”
“Mhm… You finally don’t work nights anymore, so you’re actually awake in the daytime and not half-dead on the weekends.”
“Oh… You noticed that?”
“I notice a lot of things. It’s kind of my thing. You know that, silly.”
“True… But it wouldn’t have to always be just me and him. We could all do stuff together sometime.”
“I guess,” she admits. She did enjoy some of those days in Europe when they went about town. Her daddy smiled more, really smiled, on those trips, and Mr. Miles even lightened up a bit. “But it’s not the same. And I don’t see why dating has to change all that. Why do you want to so badly?”
He starts slowly, then picks up more confidence along the way. “Well… we’ve been through a lot, and we know each other really well. Not just the good stuff, but the... not so good stuff, too. But we’re not afraid of seeing those parts of each other. We want to make those parts better, be better people together. We trust each other to be able to do that and to stick together even if it’s hard or if we make mistakes.”
Gross, she thinks immediately, and then: “How come you don’t trust me?”
He makes that oh no face from last night.
“I do, Truce, I trust you more than anybody. It’s just… I depend on you so much. You’re my shining light,” he smoothes her hair, “but I don’t want to ask so much of you. Daddies shouldn’t depend on their daughters as much as I already do.”
“A little late for that,” she grumbles. “But as for trust… I mean, you don’t have to tell me everything ever. But when it’s about big things that affect me, I don’t want to find out too late, like… like why Kristoph killed my daddy or even knew him in the first place. I deserved the truth from you, not from court.”
“…You’re right. I’m sorry.” He’s silent for a moment. “If you want to talk about that stuff now, it’s the least I can do. I’ll tell you as much as I can.”
She’s finally been handed her chance, even with the little string attached at the end. Now she doesn’t know where to start.
“You talked to Daddy that night… Was that the only time you’d talked to him? After he…”
He nods. “I tried everything I could to contact him years ago. But I got nothing, and I never heard anything after that. He just showed up out of the blue at the club that night.”
She doesn’t want to care, but the question escapes anyway, her voice coming out small and hesitant. “Did he say anything about me?”
“Mhm. He asked how you were. And he wanted you to have the Gramarye rights, which he said was why he came out of hiding.”
The rights? How could those possibly be so important he abandoned her for them? Was he planning on disappearing again after that, without even seeing her?
As if reading her mind, Daddy says, “I asked if he wanted to see you. He said it would be better if he didn’t. He looked… guilty about it. Like maybe he thought he didn’t deserve to. But I can’t say for sure.”
So he did care. Just not enough to show her directly. She’s not sure what she actually wanted from him, after he’d been gone for so many years. But she never got the chance, or the choice, to find out.
Trucy swallows a lump in her throat. “What else did you talk about?”
“Well, he wanted a poker rematch. But before that he talked about your mother.”
Something in him shifts. He’s subtly putting up a guard, or maybe just bracing himself.
“My mom…?”
“He told me she died in an accident during practice with him and Valant.”
“Oh… Nobody told me that.”
She doesn’t know what to feel. She wonders if she should be angry. She can see why they wouldn’t have told her that though, when she was so young. It probably would’ve felt like admitting they killed her. No wonder the troupe was never the same after that.
And it’s not really something this Daddy could casually bring up. He holds her closer.
“I also found out something I can’t tell you yet. Not because I don’t want you to know, but I made a promise to someone else. I will tell you someday. Just… not right now.”
Someone… else? Someone he can’t name?
“Is it something bad?”
“I don’t think so, no. I hope not.”
He’s tense, like he doesn’t know whether it’s true either.
“Okay,” she relents.
Trucy feels lost, trying to put together all this information, and Daddy keeps reacting to things unexpectedly, so she can’t read him as clearly while she’s being bombarded with all these feelings. But there’s still a few more things she has to know.
“Why’d Kristo—Mr. Gavin kill my dad?”
Daddy pauses. “I wish I knew. I asked him the same thing right after Drew Misham died. He basically shut down.” He hesitates again. “But my guess is that he wanted to eliminate every tie to your dad’s case all those years ago.”
“Including you or me?”
He squeezes her closer protectively. “God I hope not.”
She fills in the blanks too though. Mr. Gavin had more than enough chances to, but for whatever reason, he didn’t. It’s not all that reassuring.
“After getting me disbarred, I don’t think he needed to kill me. Maybe it wasn’t worth his time.”
Trucy pulls away to gawk at him.
“Wait, getting you disbarred?”
“Oh, right,” he laughs nervously. “I guess you didn’t… know that. But yeah.”
She impatiently gestures for him to go on.
“I had my suspicions, but I couldn’t prove anything. And who would’ve believed a disbarred lawyer anyway?”
“But you were still friends with him?”
“Well… He was nice. Mostly. And he was there,” he says simply.
Whatever they had been was more than a friendship of convenience, Trucy knows, and the way Daddy doesn’t give away any other information means something, especially when he looks lost as he says it. Like he’s asked himself the same thing. Like maybe he doesn’t know why either.
While she’s picking this apart, he adds, “Before that night with your dad… I never imagined he was that crazy.”
Trucy examines this too, putting herself in his position—someone you were close to for most of a decade turns out to be a murderer, three times over. He sinks into the cushions like he’s physically weighed down. She thinks they both wish, real and hypothetical and secondhand and fundamentally, that they could have seen that coming.
“So how can you still pretend to be fine after all that?” Trucy asks suddenly.
“Huh?”
The way he’s said a few things has been weird. It’s the sort of phrasing that would make her start scanning someone even closer for tells, looking for the shadows cast by the things they’re not saying. He’s kept his word and been open so far, so it doesn’t feel like he’s purposefully leaving too many things out. But something’s still… off.
She tries to put the pieces together neatly, but picking at these threads all at once only makes her thoughts spill out as a tangled mess.
“I mean, usually I can tell when you put on a brave face, and this is all so insane and like, impossible to hide. So I don’t think you’re lying about it right now. But back then… maybe that’s why you were gone so much after that trial, not just ’cause you were working on your secret project. And you always looked so tired, but I thought that was just the night shift. And you’d always—you still do sometimes—get weird and antsy and spaced out on Thursdays, when you used to have dinner with him. And… and you just said ‘he was here’, and that was why you were so close with Mr. Gavin. Because someone else wasn’t here. Someone like Mr. Miles.”
Daddy flinches, but at what part is unclear. “Whoa, slow down, Truce. Can we focus on one thing at a time here?”
“No. How much do you actually trust Mr. Miles? Does he know about any of this, if you’re only telling me this now after I grilled you? How can you trust him so much if he wasn’t here for you?”
“I don’t… know. I just do,” he says plainly, like it’s as natural to him as breathing. “And he knows about most of it, between his job and the bits and pieces I’ve mentioned.”
“Great. So he knew more than I did, when it was my dad who died and my dad who almost went to jail for it.” She glowers at the coffee table and draws her knees closer to her chest. She’s too annoyed to keep watching Daddy’s expressions so closely. “And I bet you think I don’t notice when you don’t sleep, or how you still look over your shoulder sometimes when we go out.”
The couch cushions sink as he wilts next to her. “Trucy…”
But he doesn’t continue, so she does.
“So that’s the other thing: you avoid things. You’ll keep yourself busy busy busy, or act like nothing’s wrong, or conveniently forget to talk about stuff.”
Daddy exhales, not heavy enough to be a sigh, but pensive all the same. Another lapse of silence follows.
Trucy’s frustration falls away and morphs into apprehension as she surveys the course of their conversation so far. She’s been digging and digging, only to find herself at the same spot along a well-worn path of worry.
“What about you, Trucy? There’s something you’re not telling me either,” he says gently, the way he did when they’d just started living together and he was trying to coax her into telling him when she was hungry or what she wanted to eat.
“I don’t know, I just… A lot has happened. I don’t want things to change…” her voice wavers. “I don’t want to lose you too.”
Daddy turns to wrap both arms around her. She can’t help but fall into the embrace and cling to him like she did as a child.
“Trucy, I promise you won’t lose me.”
“But I will if you and Miles start dating. Whether you mean for it to happen or not. Maybe it’ll be in little ways, but it’ll happen. Things are going to change forever, and I don’t want our relationship to be one of them.”
She hates how nonsensical she sounds, how it looks like she’s throwing a fit just because Daddy wants a boyfriend. But the thing with Miles is just the latest reminder of what she nearly lost and what’s been slipping away. She and Daddy have both been unmoored this past year, except it isn’t like before when they were unmoored together, holding on to each other and holding on to hope.
Daddy’s voice cuts through Trucy’s thoughts like an anchor slicing through dark waters, certain and steady, “Listen, no matter what happens, I’ll always be your dad. You’ll always mean the world to me, okay?”
As much as Trucy wants to keep her head buried in his shoulder, she has to look—has to make sure. She withdraws and searches his eyes, which remain warm, patient, and determined as he watches her scrutinize him. There’s no slant of uncertainty tugging at the corners of his mouth, no tension in his jaw from trying to hold an expression in place. His body language is relaxed and open, and his hands haven’t twitched or snuck out of sight.
She doesn’t find any signs that he’s lying or unsure. Trucy finally lets herself believe him, and the vice on her chest loosens. She gives her daddy a watery smile. “Okay.”
“And I really am sorry for not talking to you about… all that when I should have.”
“I know you are. And I’m still mad about it.” Trucy rests her head back on his shoulder. “But I still love you, Daddy.”
“That’s the best I can ask for,” he says as he tousles her hair affectionately.
Trucy hums in response. She’s had enough of an emotional roller coaster for one weekend. There’s a lot she needs to think over on her own, which will mean more questions to ask Daddy. Now that they’re moving toward steady ground again, she trusts it won’t be another interrogation.
At the end of the day, she’s glad to have her daddy, even when he’s being a dumb-dumb.