During my fifth week in Antarctica, I heard a voice I knew all too well while heading out for field research.
It was Owen.
I had intentionally kept my location hidden, so there was no way he could find me. The only reason he got even a hint of information was because he begged our mutual friends until someone finally gave in.
A week earlier, Owen had chased me all the way here. After days of searching, he finally tracked me down.
It had only been a month, yet he looked completely different. The proud and confident man I once knew was gone. His beard was unshaven, and his lips were cracked from the freezing weather.
The moment Owen saw me, a faint light returned to his eyes. It was the first trace of life I had seen on his worn-out face.
"Emma! I finally found you."
He rushed over an
