Nothing is okay. Like the last few weeks, I tried to follow your lead, you know, find some kind of compartment to put all this stuff in, but I just I can’t. I don’t sleep. I’m more scared now than I ever was. I’m scared of getting caught, I’m scared of not getting caught. We got away with murder. What does that make me? A survivor. I think you’re a good man, with a big heart. I believe you try and do as much good as you can, but you live a life I don’t think I’ll ever really understand. I called Chicago Presbyterian today, and they said they’d take me back. And I think it’s the best choice. Don’t you get tired of it? Running?