[ Oh. Thank God. His heart can stop trying to burst out of his chest now.

Adam knows how his face must look, features arranged in an approximate amalgamation of abject misery. He tries to school it into something calmer and hopes it doesn't cause a Quasimodo effect. ] Yeah. I'm kind of having a moment. I think maybe it was the soldiers with guns. Or the being lost thing.

I kind of don't know what to do next?