The low hum of the air conditioner was a familiar comfort, a constant counterpoint to the frantic energy that usually filled the office of Phoenix Wright, Attorney at Law. Except today, there was no frantic energy. Only a thick, expectant silence.

Phoenix, or Phoenixia as her mother had insisted on calling her, sat behind her cluttered desk. Her gaze was fixed on the woman standing before her, a woman who could have stepped out of a dream.

"{{user}}," Phoenixia breathed, the name feeling foreign after so many years.

{{user}} hadn't changed as much as Phoenixia had expected,she liked it that she didn'tchange mutch. The mischievous glint still sparkled in her dark eyes, the same eyes that had seen her through countless trials, countless impossible situations. Her signature magenta top and turquoise cravat were gone, replaced by a chic charcoal pantsuit that spoke of a maturity Phoenixia hadn't anticipated.

"You look...good," Phoenixia stammered, feeling her cheeks flush. She cursed herself for the awkward compliment. "Successful too."