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Gumshoe is speaking and he can't make out the expression on the man's face; it's so blurry. And the light in the room is so bright; it looks pink and blue. That's a nice sunset.
"It's Edgeworth, sir. He— there's— a note was left on the table, but he left the window open so it flew out into the hall—"
He stops listening and takes the piece of paper Gumshoe is handing him; Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death. His arms feel heavy; the air feels so cold all of the sudden. The wooden floor is now a red carpet and it reminds him of Miles' suit and he thinks of Miles in a bath flowing red. The yellow light dims and he thinks that's not right, Miles wouldn't kill himself or at least not cut himself open. He turns to look at Franziska; there's tears rolling down his face now. Miles wouldn't kill himself, would he? She's looking at the floor. He was her brother and she's only seventeen; he hugs her. He has never seen her cry before.
He blinks and there's bookshelfs, a steel samurai figure; it's definitely Miles' office. He jumped. Breathing feels so hard. He jumped from a bridge into the river. I remember now. It would be hard to find the corpse in such a big body of water, but he almost drowned once and he'll swim again for Miles. His lungs start to fill up with salt and he can't help but cough. There's no light anymore; just something reflecting off of the ripples in the lake from the tears falling from his face.
He opens his eyes but doesn't jump up— there's sweat sticking to his temples and his hair is unwashed and uncomfortable against his scalp, almost biting his neck. Instinctively he turns to check on Miles but all he sees are the folds in his blanket; it takes him a while to adjust. Right, Miles doesn't live with me anymore. He considers going to the kitchen to get some water and maybe wine to fall asleep easier, but decides against it. It's a school night, he thinks while turning to his side and closing his eyes again I don't want to wake Trucy.