"Phoenix Wright, are you asking me to strip?" Miles said, smirking just a bit at the end of the question. "And, to your last question: I own perfectly good pajamas, thank you very much. I...just don't have them here. They saw fit to give me my suit; I think it's a bit much to turn around and say, 'Oh, powers that be, while I do appreciate looking normal at night, may I have my suit during the day and during the evening, and could you also fetch that pair of pajamas in the third drawer of my dresser while you're at it? Thanks.'" He laughed, then let it fade slowly.

"This place..." he sighed the words out. "It's so strange to think of this, but...would we have ever gotten to this point on the outside? I...I want to think so, but... It's also strange to think that I should feel grateful at all. I mean, look what they've done to us. But if this is the one bit of good that's come from it..."

A minute later, he stopped altogether. "Forgive me. I think I'm rambling on because I'm just relieved."