Work Text:
In the end, it was easy for Franziska to hand over the letter. Her little brother took it hesitantly from her hand. "It's his reply," she said, crossing her arms.
Edgeworth stared at the small, bulging envelope darkened all across the back and up the sides, like an enfolding flower, browned by time. The very corners were ashen, scorched black, and had long since rubbed away.
"You insisted that your little friend was sincere with that... ridiculous faith of yours," she continued. "Papa... falsified the evidence, to prove you couldn't trust in sentiment. I regret... keeping it for so long."