Autor rests his chin on his scarred knuckles and his chopsticks in his bowl. "Unfortunately--and this is stating the obvious--you won't know what will happen in your life there until you go live it. I'm sorry if not knowing worries you," Autor murmurs. "And I don't blame you at all; I'm... sort of the same way. I went home less than twenty five times in my almost two years here."