Marta stood there with the tray, knowing she should go over and sit next to him and feed him, but she was frozen in place. His bruised and battered body was a reminder of the terrible things that happened because of her. And her "people". The people from her social standing, the people who went to her parent's church, the people she grew up with, they did this to Ezra. And to the other Jewish members of the community. How could things change so quickly? Marta never remembered it being like this as a child, then again, she was naive and too much in a happy bubble to realize this has always been happening. Just behind closed doors, and in dark alleys. But with Hitler in power, it opened up the hate and it made it ok to do what has been done to Ezra. Marta was beyond ashamed of "her people". That is why she wanted Ezra, and his family, and their community to be her people. Even if it met her life. 

She snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Ezra trying to speak and watching him struggle to sit up and reach for her. When he asked if she didn't want him, Marta quickly shook her head. She quickly snapped back to reality, or as close to reality as she could get, and carefully placed the tray atop of the dresser next to her. She walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge facing Ezra, tucking one of her legs under herself. She took Ezra's hand that had been outstretched a moment again, and held it between hers. She reached up and brushed the hair out of his eyes, it was still wet from his bath. Marta looked into his eyes, feeling the tears forming again behind hers.

"I don't want to leave" she said softly as she continued to run her fingers through his hair, much like she did the first night they met. She found it soothed her and it seemed to sooth Ezra as well. "Ezra I will always want you. But what am I suppose to do? I bring nothing but harm and danger to you, how can I stay around when I know this is happening?"

She took a deep breath, scooted as close as she could to Ezra without causing him any pain. She wished she could wrap her arms around him, and vice versa, being in his arms was the safest place Marta has ever been. The same can't be said about her arms. Her arms only brought bad things to Ezra. He was pulled from her arms today and beaten nearly to death. He was the farthest thing from safe in her arms.

She leaned over, placing a light kiss on his lips, knowing his face must be in pain from his broken nose. "It should be you who doesn't want me anymore."