Ezra knows what the answer to that question is supposed to be, but it's still hard to answer it. His throat hurts with the lump that's stuck inside of it. Deeper still is an ache for someone who's not there, for arms to wrap around him and make him feel better even with such a hard decision to make.

"No..." he whispers, looking down again. His mom and dad would have wanted him to live with some to take care of him, he's sure. But... "But isn't there some way we could leave them a message? In case they come back, so they'll know I'm okay? And... and maybe they could call us, so they know I'm okay, too?"