Jay quietens down a little, if only because he's been crying so hard that his nose is positively clogged with snot and it's getting hard to breathe. He leans away from Neffa and wipes at his eyes with his hands. He looks just as utterly miserable and hopeless as he feels. His face is streaked with make-up and sweat. Crying has taken the edge off his terror and despair, somewhat, but he' far, far from calm. More than anything, he wants his twin sister, to curl up with, to protect him, to carry heavy bags while he did the talking.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, looking down at his hands. "I ... I just ..." he sniffs and it almost looks like he's about to start crying again, but he perseveres and keeps whatever scraps of calm he's regained. "This is just awful."

He leans against the tree and whimpers, though, mercifully, it's far quieter than his earlier bawling.

"Do you think there's any chance the supplies are laced with cyanide?" he says, miserably.