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Summary
“This gang ain’t gonna last much longer. Anyone with sense can see that. And when it all falls apart, I want you to come with us. Me, Abigail, and Jack.”
The tree’s rough bark digs into John’s hand. Arthur’s eyes are wide, and he shakes his head. “John, the way that I am, I’m not gonna last – “
John cuts him off. “I don’t want to hear that. Just think about it. Please.”
(John and Arthur and what could have been, maybe.)
