Jane's voice carried a distinct airy, unworldly sound, as if she were drugged or at least daydreaming. She'd managed to undo the buckle and free her other arm, and was now chewing at the sleeve to free her hand.<br/>"I'm here," she called after a vague, distracted pause, then returned to worrying at the sleeve. Her free hand undid the 'belt' of the straightjacket, leaving the heavy material now hanging on her like a too-large coat, one hand poking free through the tattered sleeve, the straps still dangling at the ends.<br/><br/>She climbed down from the bench, still chewing at the sleeve, and moved over to the door to stand just before it, staring at the little sliding door that allowed someone outside to peer in. If someone slid the door back, her large eyes would be staring through from less than a foot away.