It's surprising to be called out to by name, considering her expectations were particularly low. Nothing about the quick and dirty introduction to the Initiative and their home base promised recognition by people she knew from back home.

Thus when she does hear her name, she looks toward the source. With that tone she's puzzled enough to almost ask if they were expecting some other Mia, before she catches sight of the speaker.

She doesn't expect to see the young prosecutor from her first case over a year ago. Miles Edgeworth, she remembers, just as she remembers so many of the details wrapped up in that disastrous trial and the collateral damage afterward. Ironic that the day after seeing Dahlia locked away on both attempted and accomplished murder counts of the first degree she runs into him, of all people, in this place.

Pardon him for being more enamored of that devil's smile than the truth behind her actions. There's some comfort to be derived from the fact he doesn't look any happier or pleased with himself for being where he was.

In fact, he wasn't even looking her way. You're acting like this is the first time you've... ah. "I believe it's called a bathrobe," she stated blandly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Though if you're going to insist I submit the evidence to a non-existent judge, I'm going to have to politely decline, Miles Edgeworth."

She was above emphasis. Look how above emphasis she was!