He didn’t believe her, but he rummaged through the old box of photos, notes, and trinkets (his Proof of Life box) anyway. Up to his elbows in flotsam, he finally felt the envelope he was looking for, pulled it out, and opened it. As he looked at the negatives, he knew deep down she was right, but he refused to be afraid and held each strip up to the light, looking at each frame, one by one. When he found the image she told him would kill him, he took a sharp intake of breath – and waited. 

He didn’t have to wait long.