[ Despite what he knows about Hannibal's 'culinary' habits, not to mention what took place in this kitchen, there is a sense of familiarity and comfort. Given his eidetic memory, Will can recall each visit he paid to the kitchen. Two were nightmares, but the remaining visits had all involved these comforting rituals. Tea, or wine, or coffee, to sip while listening to Hannibal prepare a meal.

Will had spent too many nights agonizing over what he now knew about the food he'd consumed. Too many nights. When Will had decided to release Hannibal from prison, and let events with the Red Dragon unfold as Fate decreed, Will had let go of that part of his own humanity. There was no sense in torturing himself over that past. Over choices, both ignorant and knowing.

Hannibal was right. Life was much more peaceful, when you just accepted your nature. ]

It's not ideal. [ He says, in a resigned tone. ] Being in close quarters with that many people? Even Chilton's 'luxury guest' accommodations were preferable. But it beats sleeping on strange streets, so for the time being ... [ He shrugs, accepting his fate. ]