"I —" Ezra started, but he didn't know what he'd been about to say. Maybe about to beg her not to go — even though he'd as good as told her to he'd felt a jolt of panic when she rose to her feet. Maybe to say thank you for trying, at least, or maybe to apologize. Whatever it was died in his throat as she continued, asking if he wanted to keep her notes.

His eyes as he met hers were pained. He didn't want her notes. He'd been through all of this as a younger man, trying to figure out what to do about the curse while managing the symptoms however he could, and he was sure whatever she'd been able to do would only be retracing his old steps. He still felt a heaviness in his chest about her having done all this investigating on his sake, but he didn't have much faith that she would have turned over stones he hadn't. He didn't want her notes because he had already given up, but he didn't know how to say that.

"Alright," he agreed.

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