Phoenix opened his mouth to protest, but he knew there wasn’t much he could say that wouldn’t sound stupid and petty. He sighed and averted his gaze, but his jaw was still tightly set when he said, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

His gaze immediately went to the dark hallway to the left of the foyer, to the closed door at the end of it. If Edgeworth was actually heeding his doctor’s advice, he would be behind that door, lying down in bed, and sleeping. It was a long shot and possibly a pipe dream, but the office door was closed with no light on underneath, and Phoenix didn’t have many other options. He quietly made his way down the hall.

“…Couldn’t we have gotten through with you just holding my hand?” he asked.

Apparently, he wasn’t completely beyond a little pettiness.