Chapter Text
"Is this... a house-key, Wright?"
"Fantastic logic, Edgeworth, no wonder you passed the bar."
Miles can't find it within himself to glare at Wright. The man looks like he hasn't changed his clothes in three weeks, wears deep purple bruises under his eyes like totems, and has a panicked determination in his gaze that flashes like an old satellite TV signal.
"Why are you giving me this?"
Wright rolls his eyes. There’s no hint of a joke, or of kindness, like Miles has come to expect. It's a look borne of frustration that Miles can't read his mind, can't just take the goddamn key and leave him alone.
"It's a key. You use it to enter doors that are locked."
"I'm well aware of what a key is, you--" Miles barely stops himself from lashing out at the pathetic man.
Wright sighs, the sound like three dissonant chords layered on top of one another: disappointment that Miles held back, aggrievement that he has to explain himself, and overwhelming, palpable exhaustion.
"It's a key to my new apartment. Our new apartment, Trucy's and mine. Child Services wouldn't let me adopt if we were living out of the office."
Miles pauses, reluctant to ask the obvious next question, the why are you giving me your house key, though, it's not like we're truly friends.
"You know, if I, uh, go out of town and I need someone to water the plants or something." Wright scratches the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. "There aren't a lot of people who have stood by me after-- well, you know. And Maya is hours away in Kurain."
Sunlight glints off the brass key in Miles' palm as they stand on the sidewalk outside the Prosecutor's Office. It strikes Miles that this may be the way Wright asks for help. After a moment of thought, he slides the key onto his own key ring.
"I'll do whatever you need."