Again, Gabriel stirred against him as he began to climb. But the memory faded, leaving him colder than before.
If only he had had time to receive more warmth from The Giver before he escaped!
Maybe there would be more left for him now. But there was no purpose in if-onlys.
His entire concentration now had to be on moving his feet, warming Gabriel and himself, and going forward.
He climbed, stopped, and warmed them both briefly again, with a tiny scrap of memory that seemed certainly to be all he had left.
The top of the hill seemed so far away, and he did not know what lay beyond.
But there was nothing left to do but continue. He trudged upward.
As he approached the summit of the hill at last, something began to happen.
He was not warmer; if anything, he felt more numb and more cold.
He was not less exhausted; on the contrary, his steps were leaden, and he could barely move his freezing, tired legs.
But he began, suddenly, to feel happy. He began to recall happy times.
He remembered his parents and his sister. He remembered his friends, Asher and Fiona.
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