[It strikes him, suddenly, that he's not sure if Ford even knows Oz died. If not, it's even more cruel to dump this on him, but....he has to start somewhere.]
He's not back yet. I...I don't think he's coming back.
[He considers, halfway through that sentence, softening it. Suggesting that he doesn't know why Oz isn't back, and leaving room for the possibility. But he remembers the agonizing months when Summer was still just "missing" rather than "presumed dead". It's not a kindness to lie to him, and put him through that process of steadily waning hope, of grieving without being sure.]
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He's not back yet. I...I don't think he's coming back.
[He considers, halfway through that sentence, softening it. Suggesting that he doesn't know why Oz isn't back, and leaving room for the possibility. But he remembers the agonizing months when Summer was still just "missing" rather than "presumed dead". It's not a kindness to lie to him, and put him through that process of steadily waning hope, of grieving without being sure.]
...I'm sorry.