But I would doom Creon in my attempts to absolve myself. I would deny my friends their last hope of victory. And I would never see that house by the sea, with its icehouse and its stained-glass windows and its library within a library. We would never get those stupid cats. The prospect of going on, of risking all those lives and knowing we’d most likely fail to save them … It was like staring down a solid brick wall, miles high and impossible to scale. Impossible enough to almost send me running. Impossible enough to make me want to break down crying and never even try. Then again … I knew
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