I had come out of the Compound, after seeing Samuel Vimes back to the office, only to see Sean stagger down the path in front of me. I stared after him in horror and disbelief.

He'd told me in no uncertain terms that my help was unwelcome, but the wind was picking up. A blizzard looked like it was setting in. Not helping him, or at least keeping him in sight, meant possibly hearing about his body being found in a snowbank a few days from now, and knowing that I could have helped him, but didn't.

As I pulled my collar tighter around my neck and set out after Sean, keeping his outline barely visible in the snow, I sighed. Just call me the designated driver of the island.

Miraculously, he reached his yurt. I saw him take a final swig from his bottle and stagger inside, leaving the door ajar. I frowned. Maybe he was safe. Maybe he didn't need my help. But I crept up to the door and peered in, just to be sure.

I saw him slump into his chair and peer at something into his palm. I stood a long moment, waiting for... what?