Previously on An Apocalypse of Ice:
The massive heirship controversy was ﬁnally resolved. Will accepted it, albeit with reserva<ons along the lines of marrying his
uncle’s girlfriend being totally weird. Jan also accepted, albeit with similar reserva<ons, in addi<on to a broken heart. This is
because Julian was already engaged to marry BriCany. You don’t even have to ask whether this is an apocalypse family or a soap
In addi<on, Brandon got some bad news: Lily, who he had planned to succeed him as Law of Winterfell, had been ﬁred and was
ineligible for the posi<on. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a backup, leaving him scrambling for who should be next.
Finally, Arthur and Sabriel headed oﬀ to college. Arthur got his ﬁrst kiss, which made him preCy happy, but Sabriel was not in a
good place aMer losing out on the heirship and being demoted.
Mal sat on the second ﬂoor bed. He had been planning to go to the third ﬂoor, but he didn’t think he could handle another ﬂight
It had been geQng harder and harder to go out to work. Being an elderly adventurer commanded some respect—aMer all, you
had lived that long—but Mal wasn’t up for crossing rope bridges that unraveled once you were halfway across a chasm anymore,
and he would probably have to admit that sooner or later.
In fact, he was going to die one of these days, wasn’t he? It wasn’t as if Mal had never thought about it. It had crossed his mind
not long aMer becoming an elder. But he had never thought about it seriously.
“Hey, Mal,” Chris said. “I was wondering if you were up for a game—are you feeling all right?”
“What if I’m dying?” Mal asked.
Her ﬁrst ins<nct was to tell him that he couldn’t die yet. They were supposed to die together, and even though she was slowing
down, she was s<ll in good health. Chris didn’t want to be the one who survived him. But she squeezed his hand and said, “Then
we’ll spend as much <me together as we can. Whether you are or not.”
Mal went on to play mahjong that day, and he took care of himself as well as he could. But as <me went by, his good days grew
fewer and farther between. One morning, he could barely shower and put his suit on before he had to go back to bed. Mal had
had other days like this, but today, he didn’t think he could even take a couple of pain pills and go adventuring. The job he had
dreamed about having since he was a liCle boy was over. Maybe everything would be over soon.
He didn’t want everything to end, even if it would mean that there would be no more pain. Even without adventures to go on,
Mal had his family. Jan had just joined the family, and Will was about to come back from college. It wouldn’t be long before his
kids started on their great works, and maybe he would have a grandchild soon. But would he live that long?
“Hey, Mal!” Brandon burst into the room with a ﬁnger‐gun, probably on his way to the bathroom. “What’s going on? Why are
you just siQng here?”
“Can you call the kids at Oldtown?” Mal asked.
Brandon shook his head. “The phones won’t be up again for another week or so, if they’ve made it back to college from here yet.
“Of course,” he said, not looking at Brandon. “I couldn’t be there when Mom died, and now the kids can’t be here when I—”
“No, no. You’re not dying. You’re my liCle brother. I’m the one who’s supposed to have one foot in the grave. I’m the one with
the bad eyesight who can’t remember my teen birthday.”
“But what if I am?”
Brandon walked around to the other side of the bed. “Then I don’t know what comes next,” he said, moving the pillows to sit
beside Mal. “None of us do. I hope it’s good, but I can’t pretend to have any kind of special knowledge of what’s on the other
side. But I can tell you what’s going to happen here. We’ll miss you a lot, but we’ll go on, like we did when Dad and Mom died.
Will’s going to come back and take over. But if you die before he comes back, then the rest of us will run things as well as we can.”
“I didn’t do right by him.” Mal looked oﬀ into the distance. “I might not have told him that he had to marry Jan, but I forced him
into it all the same. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Brandon didn’t know what to say. “It was a good idea,” he said. “Jan’s been at the books a lot. I think she has a breakthrough on
“But she’s not happy.” Mal sniﬄed. “And Will’s not going to be happy either. I won’t even get to tell him I’m sorry.”
“But you can tell her that.”
“Things were going so well,” Mal con<nued. “But I can’t help but feel like I mucked it all up in the end. You don’t feel like…like it
was a mistake leQng me be the heir, do you?”
“I don’t regret it,” Brandon said. “I’ve thought about how things might be diﬀerent. I like kids a lot more than I thought I did
when I was young. But that could be because they’re your kids and Chris’s, not mine. Who knows what kind of father I would
have been. And I think it can only be good that you were compassionate instead of feeling like you had to be as tough as iron all
the <me. I wouldn’t take it back for myself if I had the chance. You’ve been great, and you’re s<ll going to be great.”
“Now let’s go live what parts of our lives are leM.”
And they did as Mal danced with Chris in the newly redecorated second ﬂoor bedroom.
Don’t you worry, there, my honey
We might not have any money
But we’ve got our love to pay the bills
Maybe I think you’re cute and funny
Maybe I want to do what bunnies do with you
If you know what I mean
Oh let’s get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France
Let’s get rich and give everybody nice sweaters
And teach them how to dance
Let’s get rich and build our house on a mountain
Making everybody look like ants
From way up there
You and I
You and I
Well you might be a bit confused
And you might be a liDle bit bruised
But baby, how we spoon like no one else
So I will help you read those books
If you will soothe my worried looks
And we will put the lonesome on the shelf
Oh let’s get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France
Let’s get rich and give everybody nice sweaters
And teach them how to dance
Let’s get rich and build our house on a mountain
Making everybody look like ants
From way up there
You and I
You and I
Once they got outside, Mal promptly started a ﬁght with Julian. A pillow ﬁght, that is.
“I hope you’re going to be happy,” Mal said. “I know I haven’t made it easy.”
“Don’t talk about it now—hey! You hit me!”
The pillow ﬁght seemed to take Mal’s mind oﬀ his fate for a while.
AMer that, it was <me for last‐minute goodbyes as six o’clock approached.
But <me kept going on, and soon a wind even colder than usual blew onto the grounds.
“It is <me,” Mal whispered, closing his eyes. “I didn’t want to think about it too much, but I couldn’t help it.”
Unwilling to put up a ﬁght, he took the drink that Death oﬀered him (it didn’t look or taste like anything he’d ever seen) and faded
away, ﬁnally feeling free in those last few seconds.
Death lingered for a moment, poin<ng his ﬁnger at Brandon before fading away, too.
Chris took it especially badly. She had never expected to love Mal as much as she did, and they had always thought they were
going to go together un<l those last few days.
Brandon summed up everyone’s feelings in a speech delivered with characteris<c vigor:
“YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO DIE THIS SOON, DAMMIT.”
Julian kept it simple and honest:
“On some level, we never really understood each other, but you were s<ll my brother. We’re going to miss you.”
And Chris spoke last:
“You were a great father, despite your concerns, and you were a wonderful husband. I’ll miss you, too.”
And then, as Brandon had said, they all tried to go on.
It was the middle of the night when Will, Arthur, and Sabriel got back to Oldtown.
“Nice place,” Sabriel said with points of her ﬁngers as she walked in. “Nicer than I expected.”
“Of course it is,” Will answered from behind her. “We just rebuilt it. I just wish we could have moved that recliner.”
The news of Mal’s death had reached them on their way. The money he had leM to them had reached them too: twenty thousand
simoleons that they used to add on to the house.
Although all three of them would have preferred to have their dad than the money, they had to admit that it had helped them
transform Will’s collec<on of walls into a space that they could comfortably live in.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” Will said, hugging Sabriel.
“What’s this about?” she asked, trying not to squirm.
“What? I need a reason to hug you? You’re my liCle sister, and I care about you.”
It’s not that simple, she wanted to scream. How could it be, when every last thing Will did—almost every last thing he did drove
her crazy, and now he had inherited everything? Shouldn’t he be a liCle less willing to walk up and hug her? And, for crying out
loud, did he have to touch her?
But he needed this, so Sabriel let Will hug her. It wasn’t so bad. And she thought she kind of needed it too.
“What? I’m not important to you?” Arthur asked, whacking Will with a pillow.
“Hey! Of course you are!”
“Good! Because I wasn’t going to stop chasing you with this pillow un<l you said that!”
“So are you going to stop chasing me with the pillow now?”
So they went on, too. Arthur proved to be remarkably hard‐working, geQng a head start on his term paper. He was preCy sure
that he wanted to choose the drama major, but his freshman wri<ng class wasn’t going away, no maCer how badly he wanted it
to. It was a way to not think about Mal for a liCle while, except for the thought that his dad would have wanted him to work hard
and do well in class.
But Sabriel couldn’t focus on her homework. It was too stupid for words, so she wasn’t going to write any.
She went outside to cry, where there was less of a chance that Will and Arthur would be watching.
Nothing good was going to happen to Sabriel, was it? First there was the heirship, then her demo<on, and then her dad was
dead. College wasn’t bad so far. At least they’d gone on a nice long journey to get there, and she wasn’t bored yet. But it wasn’t
good enough to make up for this mess.
Sabriel had barely said goodbye. None of them had had the chance, but she’d been so upset over everything else that she had
hardly even thought about it. It was like she hadn’t realized that in order to be heir, her dad would have to die.
Enough of this. Sabriel had to do something that wasn’t weeping into her gloves. She s<ll wanted to say something to her dad,
but even if she could, what would she say? The best thing she could do was live her life well and have a lot of adventures. It s<ll
felt like she wouldn’t have anything to do without being the heir, but she was not going to live the rest of her life inside the house
where she had grown up. And if one of them managed to do something about the lack of houses in the area, then she wouldn’t
Maybe she could do it. Someone would have to get it done right.
“So that’s why you suddenly decided to study economics,” Arthur said, lowering his pillow for a minute. “I thought you were
insane when you ﬁrst told me.”
“Nope. Well, the numbers are boring as crazy, but if I’m going to set up any kind of housing empire, I need to either ﬁgure this out
or ﬁnd a bunch of minions who’ve ﬁgured it out already and can do the analysis for me. Think about it, Arthur. People can move
out, but no one has anywhere to go, and there’s all this land that doesn’t have anything on it. I’ll divide it into lots, build houses—
just a few basic ﬂoor plans, it’s not like they’re going to look any diﬀerent on the outside—and sell them oﬀ. And then one of
them’s going to be for you and one of them’s going to be for me. We’re not going to be sleeping in random beds scaCered around
the house. We’ll get to have our own lives.”
Having his own life was something Arthur had barely thought about. He had known he didn’t want to be the heir, but he had
assumed that he would s<ll live in the house, like his uncles had done. “What if we could?” he asked, smiling.
“Not ‘could,’ Arthur. We will.”
“So can I get a discount on one of these houses?”
“Maybe if I’m feeling nice.”
“What are the chances of that?”
“Right now? Not very high.”
Will squinted at the diagram. He wanted to throw the book across the room, but he needed to understand this. Why did this
book's publisher have to make the type so small? The periods at the end of sentences looked like specks of dust, and he could
barely dis<nguish the o's from the c’s. He might not have been bored to tears now that his siblings were there, but it s<ll wasn’t
much easier to focus on boring theore<cal nonsense wriCen in small type.
As Will put his book back on the shelf, it hit him again. His life wasn’t just about trying to puzzle out words on a page anymore,
like it had felt so many <mes during the last three years. Was it really going to maCer in a year whether he understood those
diagrams? He’d be at home and leading the family then. How was he supposed to do that?
“Just tell me what to do,” he pleaded, looking up to the ceiling. Just one hint.
But no maCer how much Will cried, no voice from the skies came down to tell him everything was going to be ﬁne. He stopped
crying and tried to think about something happy. He had class soon, and he didn’t want to get a headache from crying.
Things were geQng beCer already, aMer all. He wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t struggling to survive. Maybe everything would turn
“Why are you wri<ng your term paper this early in the semester?” the llama asked Arthur.
“Why are you studying this early in the semester?” Arthur answered.
“Yeah, but you’re Pleasure,” Sabriel answered. “You’re supposed to be procras<na<ng. Unlike me. I’m just reading a crappy
romance novel because it’s one of the only things on the shelf that isn’t some kind of theore<cal physics nonsense. Where did
Will get this thing, anyway?”
“It’s probably his diary,” the llama quipped.
“Ew.” Sabriel paused. “Can’t be. The guy has raven‐black hair and emerald orbs.”
“Somehow, I don’t think Will’s had <me to keep a diary of roman<c conquests,” Arthur said, looking down at the keyboard. “But if
he has, don’t read to me from it.”
“I won’t.” Sabriel looked down at the book again and stared. “That shouldn’t be anatomically possible.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do.”
While they laughed downstairs, Will sat at the chessboard. Instead of moving any of the pieces, though, he stared at the wall.
His professor had said something in lecture about the phones being down six and a half days a week to illustrate her point. Will
wasn’t sure if he understood the lesson he was supposed to be learning, but the lecture had made him start thinking about
something he had read a couple of chapters ago. What if the phones didn’t have to be down all the <me?
It didn’t maCer that it was dark and the type was <ny. He had to ﬁnd what he was looking for before he went to sleep.
“I’m so glad we got to go to college,” Sabriel was telling Will. “I wasn’t looking forward to a breakdown.”
“Me too,” Will said. “It sucked at ﬁrst, but now that you and Arthur are here, things are geQng a lot beCer.”
“Good morning,” Arthur said, grabbing another bowl of cereal and siQng down.
Sabriel stared at him. “Have you forgoCen your shirt?”
“The only pair of pajamas I could ﬁnd was missing one,” Arthur explained. “I guess I could have stolen yours, Will, since you wear
your underwear most of the <me. But I didn’t feel like it.”
“The boys are gonna love you.”
Will looked at Sabriel for a second before he realized what she was talking about. He hadn’t known Arthur liked guys, but he
remembered asking why his brother hadn’t brought any girls home from school. It made sense.
What else was there that he didn’t know about his brother and sister? And what other parts of their lives would he miss out on
during the next three years?
Arthurl interrupted his train of thought: “Did you stay up all night studying or something?”
“What? No. Not studying for class. It’s kind of a side project.” Maybe he wouldn’t have to miss out on their lives, if it worked out
like it was supposed to. “It might wind up turning into what I do to ﬁx up Winterfell.”
“Oh? You weren’t planning on keeping this a secret from us, were you?”
“Well, I wanted to know if it had a chance of working before I told either of you,” Will said.
“What do you mean, ‘had a chance of working’? Either something’s going to work out, or it’s not,” Sabriel said, thinking of her
own plan. “You might have to twist a few arms to get there, but it’s s<ll going to go the same way.”
“It’s less about arm twis<ng than about science.” Will explained what he had found about the phones. “I’m going to have to
research this some more, but I think I can ﬁx it so they work all days of the week, not just Tuesday aMernoons and evenings.”
He wasn’t sure what kind of reac<on to expect from Sabriel, but she smiled. “Nice. I was star<ng to wonder if you’d come up with
anything, but that’s good.”
“Well, have you come up with anything?” Will asked.
“Of course. I’ll buy up land, build houses, sell them, and launch a massive business empire. Proﬁt will roll in to fund my
“And you know I’m planning to bring back par<es,” Arthur said. “It’s going to be a lot easier to have them if we can call out, so I
think you have a great plan, Will. Also, I think I need to team up with Sabriel and start selling clothes. She shouldn’t be forced to
wear a pink dress like that.”
Sabriel laughed. “No kidding. Here’s to having plans for the future.”
Sabriel approached Will as he leM for class. She hated having to say this, but it was beCer than not speaking up at all. “Keep me
in the loop, okay?” she asked him.
“In what loop?”
“With what’s going on,” she said. “Like the conversa<on we had this morning about what we’re going to do for the family. If my
plan works, I won’t be around all the <me, but I s<ll want to know how things are going with the family so I can do something.”
“Of course,” Will told her. “Dad didn’t do it by himself, and I never thought that I could. I’m going to tell you and Arthur
everything. If my plan works.”
Sabriel watched him leave for class, her face almost expressionless. It would be beCer for everyone if she accepted that Will was
leading the family now. Especially for her.
BriCany had spent most of the day alterna<ng between ea<ng everything she could get her hands on and throwing it all up.
So it wasn’t much of a surprise when she found out that she was pregnant, though it s<ll made her happy.
“Well, when two people love each other very much…”
“Very funny. But how am I supposed to be a dad at this age? How am I supposed to be a dad if I can’t get out of the house? I did
sit through my brother’s explana<on of birth control devices, but I didn’t think I could get anyone pregnant.”
Clearly, that made two of them. “I don’t know. But at least you’ve been around babies before, and it’s not like this kid is going
anywhere for the next six months or so. Just try to get here as soon as you can, okay?”
“Great.” Julian was really star<ng to hate the idea of this marriage.
Julian held the phone as far away from him as he could before puQng it back. A father. Holy Plumbbob on a cracker. He tried
imagining the reac<ons everyone else in the house would have: hysterical laughter, stony silence, and…Chris would react in a
preCy non‐judgmental way, but she’d s<ll think it was funny. Mal could be annoyingly sanc<monious, but at least he would have
tried to be nice.
For now, he was going to pretend that this had not happened.
Brandon had been staring at the typed words “The Last Will and Testament of Brandon Stark” for the last half hour. It was
providing no insight as to whom he should leave his posi<on as Law of Winterfell to.
“I know,” he said to no one. He’d try to get in touch with Will. His nephew might s<ll be at college, but he was going to be running
this place once he got back. It wouldn’t be right to avoid consul<ng him.
Apparently, luck was with him. The phone rang that night.
“Uncle Brandon! What’s going on? How’s everyone doing? We would have called earlier, but…you know…” Sabriel trailed oﬀ. “Is
Brandon sighed. “I don’t know. I keep saying over and over again that this wasn’t supposed to happen. Your mom and your—”
What was he supposed to call her? “—Jan have been studying a lot, and Uncle Julian’s been glued to the mahjong table lately.
Meanwhile, I’ve been puQng ﬁres out at the law oﬃce. That reminds me, I need to—”
“Who is it?” Will asked.
“Uncle Brandon. Things sounds really bad back home, Will.”
“Is that Will?”
“Of course. Who else would it be?”
“Well, it could have been Arthur. Their voices sound a lot alike,” Brandon said. “Anyway, I need to talk to him.”
Of course he did. “Why don’t you just come over here?” Sabriel asked. “We all want to see you.” Besides, she didn’t want them
to forget about her.
“Great.” Brandon wasn’t sure if he’d be able to travel very well, but the morbid thought had crossed his mind that he might not
get another chance to see the kids, and he didn’t want to miss it. “I’ll see you soon.”
When Brandon arrived at the house, he saw Will with a bruneCe who looked like she was swooning over him. What in the world
was he up to?
Will leaned closer to De. “Thanks for coming all the way out here,” he said. “I was hoping I’d get to see you again.”
“It’s no trouble,” De answered. She found herself thinking about how she did like redheaded guys. “I’m glad I get to see you, too.”
No good could possibly come of this. Will had already agreed to marry someone else. What was he thinking? Was he thinking at
But Will ﬁnally seemed to realize he was there and came over to greet him.
“Come on,” Brandon said, reaching out to Will. “Give your old uncle a hug.”
Brandon looked at Will, then at the woman, then back at Will. He’d say something when they were inside.
Arthur pulled in a chair from the study so that all four of them could sit around the small table in the kitchen.
“I have a problem,” Brandon explained. “I’ve been looking for a successor as the Law. That’s not something that most of us have
to worry about. Once the water was clean and there was food, then that was done. But being the Law doesn’t end. If there’s no
Law, then everything that I’ve done will fall apart again. Lily was going to do it aMer me—"
“Was?” Arthur asked.
“She got ﬁred. I s<ll want to yell at someone to reinstate her, but she says that it’s not right if she doesn’t follow the rules, and
she probably is right. It can’t be bad to have an image of being ten <mes more virtuous than everyone else when you want
people to think you’re impar<al.” Even though trying to do that could be awfully annoying. “So that leaves me without a
“There isn’t anyone in your organiza<on who can help?” Will asked.
“I’ve thought about it. But I don’t trust most of them. They’re good employees, but I don’t want to think about what they might
do if I’m not in charge.” Brandon looked at Will. “So I wanted to know what you think about this.”
“Me?” Somehow, he hadn’t expected this.
“Yes, you. You’re the man in charge now, and the three of you are the ones who’ll have to live with whatever I decide to do. You
should have some input.”
“But you’re—“ Will protested without thinking about it, unaware that Sabriel looked like she was trying to avoid saying something.
“Only the one keeping things going un<l you come back. I want to know what you think.”
Will had been about to say “the one who knows the most about what’s going on,” but apparently that wasn’t the kind of ques<on
his uncle wanted. Somehow, he hadn’t realized what his father’s death meant un<l this moment. Will wanted to say that he
wasn’t ready, but this was exactly what he had wanted, wasn’t it?
He looked up at the ceiling and thought about Brandon’s ques<on.
Sabriel watched Will. Come on, she thought. Do the right thing. She knew what she would do in this situa<on, but would he
ﬁgure it out, or would he do something stupid? Of course, she would speak up if he did do something stupid, but he hadn’t been
very idio<c lately. She should give him a chance.
“It should be one of us,” Will ﬁnally said. “Trus<ng us isn’t a problem. But I think being the heir and bringing the phones back is
going to be enough for me.” He looked at his brother and sister, then turned back to Brandon. “What do you do as the Law?”
“Two main things,” Brandon explained. “I’m the chief judge. There are other judges in Winterfell, but I hear appeals from their
decisions when there are ques<ons of law up in the air. I can also recommend amendments to the Code, though they have to be
approved by the legislature. Some<mes, I can veto their decisions, but they’ve pushed a few awful laws past my vetoes lately, like
that once ﬁred you’re out law. So what are you thinking?”
Will looked at Arthur and Sabriel again. He had been about to say that Sabriel should do it. Since she had wanted to be the heir, it
was more likely that she would actually want to be the Law. But if Will ever had to go before the courts, he didn’t think he wanted
Sabriel to hear his case. She would probably decide against him just because she didn’t seem to like him. Well, if Sabriel was the
Law, she would at least try, but Will couldn’t imagine her being impar<al. Arthur would be beCer at that. But who knew if Arthur
wanted to be the Law, or if Sabriel would ﬂip out if he passed over her for this?
Besides, it wouldn’t be easy to both run a massive business empire and control the legal system. But it also wouldn’t be easy to
be an actor and control the legal system.
“Both of you should do it,” Will said to Arthur and Sabriel.
“What?” they both asked, one a few seconds aMer the other.
“Yeah.” Will nodded several <mes. “I think you’d both be good at it, but at the same <me, there were reasons not to say either
one of you should do it. But if you do it together, then you’ll bring everything good about you to the job, and everything will work
out well. You’ll s<ll be able to bring back par<es and dates, and you can have your business and your adventures.”
Sabriel grinned. “Sweet.”
“You’re happy with this?” he asked. “You’re not going to try to kill me just because I didn’t give it to you alone?”
“Of course not. Don’t make me start calling you idiot again,” she said. “I’d love to do it full <me, but the real estate business and
whatever adventures might be out there are calling me. The only way I would have killed you is if you’d ignored me.”
“Great.” Will tried to smile. “What about you, Arthur?”
“At ﬁrst, I didn’t want any part of it,” Arthur said. “Kind of like being heir. But as you talked about what you do, Uncle Brandon, I
started wondering if I’d be good at it. I’d like to try, and if Sabriel’s going to do it with me…”
“There you go,” Sabriel said. “We are going to be good at this.”
“Uncle Brandon?” Will asked, turning back to look at him. It seemed like this was too good of a solu<on, and Uncle Brandon
would be the one to tell him, if anyone.
“I’m not sure if it’s what I would have done,” Brandon said slowly, “but I don’t see any reason not to do it. I’ll rewrite my will so
you’re in it as my successors, Arthur, Sabriel.” He smiled. “And nice job, Will.”
Will had to study aMer that, but Arthur and Sabriel stayed to talk to Brandon about their new role.
“Don’t just rely on what the people before you tell you about the law,” Brandon said. “I know what it looks like because I wrote it,
but you’re not going to be familiar with it the same way that I am. Find out as much as you can about the facts. You can be as
familiar with the law as you like, but it doesn’t mean anything if you can’t apply it to the right facts. And remember that people
can surprise you. You’re going to have your opinions about the people before you, and that’s good, but you shouldn’t take
anything for granted.”
As they discussed what they might do, Brandon grew more certain that he was leaving his task in good hands.
And aMer that, all too aware of what had happened to his brother, Brandon said goodbye to his successors.
Before he went, though, he had to ask Will what he was doing ﬂir<ng with someone who wasn’t Jan.
“I know, I know,” Will said. “It was nothing. I was just…” He didn’t want it to be nothing. He tried to stop thinking about the way
things could have gone if he didn’t have to marry Jan.
Brandon nodded. “I know you’re going to do a good job,” he said. “I knew it before tonight, and I’m even more sure of it now.
“Thanks.” Will swallowed. “I will. Everything’s going to keep geQng beCer. You’ll see.”
I may have gone a liCle overboard saying goodbye to Mal, but if anyone’s worth it, he is. He’s the one who took me from just
playing a challenge to wri<ng a story. Yes, I wanted to introduce you to everyone else, too, but I really wanted to introduce you to
him. I will miss my liCle white sheep a lot
Music credit: “You and I” – Ingrid Michaelson
Next <me on An Apocalypse of Ice:
+ Skilling, skilling, and skilling
+ Who’s that guy watching Brandon and Will?
+ More college fun<ems (disclaimer: fun may or may not be included)
+ We haven’t seen Alayne for a while, have we? What could she possibly be doing?
And I haven’t forgoCen the BC; I’ve been going back and forth between the two ever since I started that. I’ll probably wind up
wrapping that up before you see 11.2.
“My dress doesn’t have a pregnancy morph! No wonder you ﬁlmed me from the neck up!”