Clark. A few weeks should have passed by the time you read this. If you followed the instructions, you’ll be in Paris on one of those chairs that never sit quite level on the pavement. I hope it’s still sunny. Across the bridge to your right you will see L’Artisan Parfumeur. You should try the scent called Papillons Extrême. I always did think it would smell great on you. There are a few things I wanted to say and couldn’t, because you would have got all emotional and you wouldn’t have let me finish. So, here it is. When you get back home, Michael Lawler will give you access to a bank account that contains enough to give you a new beginning. Don’t start panicking. It’s not enough for you to sit around for the rest of your life, but it should buy you your freedom. At least from that little town we both call home. Live boldly, Clark. Push yourself. Don’t settle. Wear those stripy legs with pride. Knowing you still have possibilities is a luxury. Knowing I might have given them to you has eased something for me. So, this is it. You are scored on my heart, Clark. You were from the first day you walked in with your sweet smile and your ridiculous clothes. And your bad jokes and your complete inability to ever hide a single thing you felt. Don’t think of me too often. I don’t want you getting sad. Just live well. Just live. I’ll be walking beside you every step of the way. Love, Will.

You know, you never would’ve let those breasts so near to me if I wasn’t in a wheelchair.

Only you, Will Traynor, would tell a woman how to wear a bloody dress.

I have become a whole new person these last six months because of you.

I don’t want to go in yet. I just want to be a man who has been to a concert with a girl in a red dress. Just a few minutes more.