Wright's easy capitulation was an unexpected relief. Edgeworth slumped back into the chair, too exhausted (and disturbed, and hungry, and...) to give a thought to his perfect posture.

He shot his companion an odd, guilty look.

"I'm...not entirely sure. Someone attacked me on my way home. Naturally I thought at first that it was a mugging, but...it wasn't." He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table, and stared at his clasped hands. There was something haunted in that look.

"I was left alive but unconscious. When I came to, I was...extremely disoriented. It's miraculous that I even found my way here."