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Summary
Will was covered in sleet and snow. And there may have been gravel in his left boot at some point. And what had he found for his trouble? Twigs. His reckoning was going to be ice cold feet and hands shoved beneath a cherry red cable knit sweater. He would hold that Norman Rockwell painting of a man on the floor if he had to. And then set his tablet on fire to warm up. It seemed fair. Just, even.