The birds were chirping secrets in the bright sunshine. Jane could see them through the white blinds, sitting high in the lone scraggly pine tree. She could see the traffic circle and the brown Arizona State Mental Institution sign, squatting as if to blend into the desert. She hadn’t heard the birds in 19 long months, hadn’t smelled Emma’s hair or felt her sticky fingers. No. Instead, thanks to Dick, she’d been locked away like a common criminal, destined to become like those surrounding her. Scuffling around a locked room, doing the Thorazine shuffle, while conversing with the voices inside since the external ones are all crazy.