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The wind off Lake Michigan didn’t just blow; it bit. Elias stood on the corner of Michigan Avenue, shoulders hunched, watching his thin polyester windbreaker lose a losing battle against the Chicago "Hawk." He’d moved here from Georgia a week ago. He was failing his first real test of winter.

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Twenty minutes later, he walked into the store. The air smelled of cedar and expensive leather. There it was, hanging on a heavy wooden rack: the in a deep, forest green.