The Fiancé Who Left Her To Die

The first sign I was going to die wasn't the blizzard. It wasn't the bone-deep cold. It was the look in my fiancé's eyes when he told me he had given my life's work-our only guarantee of survival-to another woman.

"Kelsi was freezing," he said, as if I were being unreasonable. "You're the expert, you can handle it."

He then took my satellite phone, shoved me into a hastily dug snow pit, and left me to die.

His new girlfriend, Kelsi, appeared, wrapped snugly in my shimmering smart blanket. She smiled as she used my own ice axe to slash my suit, my last layer of protection against the storm.

"Stop being so dramatic," he told me, his voice full of contempt as I lay there freezing to death.

They thought they had taken everything. They thought they had won.

But they didn't know about the secret emergency beacon I had stitched into my sleeve. And with my last ounce of strength, I activated it.