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Summary
The door code is 1944.
Max had asked, once, why, and Lewis had looked at him like it was the stupidest question he’d ever heard and said, Jackie Robinson, and that was that. Max had gone home and googled it and felt something warm and stupid settle in his chest that he’d been trying to dislodge ever since.
He punches it in now, listens to the soft click of the lock giving way, and steps inside.
