![]() ![]() He was half a foot taller, and I looked up to meet his eyes. When it was obvious he wasn’t going to do it himself, I took him by the wrists and directed his hands onto my ears. “I hate being cold.” I turned toward him. ![]() He was right-maybe this was as cold as it would get. “It’s probably not turned off, just down. I just feel like it’s only going to get colder.” “You can wear this sweatshirt too if you want.” He pulled on the front of the one he had on. On the back side were instructions on how to program it, but even following them to the letter did nothing. “Maybe.” I pushed the Up arrow several times, hoping to turn up the heat, but this time it didn’t even pretend like it was trying. “You can push a button differently than me?” “Maybe it’s programmed for certain hours,” he said. He was now pushing the On button, but it would only flash then turn back off. Dax had used his knife to pry open the small lock. We stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the thermostat. ![]() “Can we at least try to turn up the heat?” “Is this building really warmer than camping in the snow?” “I’m normally not locked inside a building. “Do you normally give yourself so little food when camping?” I wasn’t going to eat those all by myself. I have a couple of protein bars in my bag. ![]()
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