@gregoryworth
Evening had just begun to settle in, painting the sky a wondrous canvas of hues, all golds and pinks and blues, even brilliant orange mixed in with the pearl gray clouds that lined the horizon. The breeze blew crisp but soft, gentle, a rare break from the harsh winds that typically accompanied the winter months. Nine-year-old Miles Edgeworth had only returned home from school around an hour ago, and yet the fact that the days had already turned so short made him feel as though the entire remainder of his day had been burnt away. He had to admit, the steadily sinking sun and gradual fading of the light outside was making him sleepy, but even as his eyelids drooped, he still sat curled up on the living room sofa, diligently finishing up his homework for tomorrow. His father had raised him to believe that his responsibilities should come first, then play, and he intended to follow that rule as best as he possibly could.
Besides, the earlier he finished up his schoolwork, then the more time he would have to talk to his father, and tell him all about the day he’d had at school. To the rest of the world, Miles’ dad was a famous and revered defense attorney, known for solving even the most difficult cases, but here on these rare evenings -- few and far between -- when they were able to spend a quiet afternoon together, he was just Gregory Edgeworth. Just his father. Miles had always looked up to him for all that he’d been able to do, both as a lawyer and as a dad; he’d lost his mother when he was very young, and his memories of her were scarce, but Gregory had always done everything in his power to ensure that Miles was given a happy and healthy childhood.
Just as he finished scrawling down the final answer to the set of math problems he’d been assigned for homework, he looked up to find his father in the doorway. Closing his book with a snap and leaning forward with a rare excitement -- Miles had always been a stoic child -- he said, “Did I tell you yet what happened in school today, Father?” There was only the briefest pause before he continued with, “There was this whole incident at lunch -- the teacher thought this boy in my class had stolen my lunch money. I knew it wasn’t him all along, but they had a sort of . . . class trial, and everyone was bullying him. So I did what you always do -- I stood up for him, and now, I-I think I’ve got a . . . a friend.”
