A set of pearl earrings came out first. Clearly used, perhaps long ago. The gold had blotted; the pearls lost their shine. They still had potential, though. A good wipe could bring them back into shape.

Then, a photograph. It was of me, and my husband Daniel, in black and white, standing on the U.S.S. Texas in 1946. He'd come back from the war a year earlier. Daniel was afraid of flying again but...

There was an edge to what he said to me. Something sharp in his words.

I thought I was used to this by now. Years of work on the firing line had dulled my response to outbursts. Some prisoners screamed; most cried, or begged for mercy, as if I could give it to them. It bothered me at first. After some time, I had to swallow my senses. We had a job to do, after all.

But his words triggered someth...

After some time, hunger ceases to be an urge, a voice, a calling, but rather a dull ache. At this moment, Sean could feel it throughout his entire body. Deep in the pit of his stomach, down to the bones of his tired legs. Every step forward felt uncertain. When his body gave out, would it feel instant, or would he crumple on the ground in agony until his breath left him?

He had been on this road ...