It is June 2nd in South America, Peru, somewhere remote in the Andes at 3753 meters above sea level. The sun is shining brightly at 14 degrees Celsius. Kate, a 28-year-old amateur archaeologist, had been walking through the Andean region with her eight llamas for four days already. Luckily, it had barely rained so far, the dry season had started weeks ago, and apart from nightly frost, the weather conditions were pleasant.

  Four months ago, her grandfather had died of heart failure. At least, that’s what the doctors said. Kate believed it at first, too, but after a few days, she forced herself—heavy-hearted—to go through his belongings. In doing so, she came across notes from his last journey.

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  He had often been away for weeks, sometimes even months. All over the world, he searched for relics from times long past. Many referred to him as the “Indiana Jones” of real life. Kate would have agreed with them—back then. As a little girl, she had always been excited whenever he returned from his travels. There was always a surprise waiting for her. Once, he brought her a wooden mask from Central America made by the Maya. Another time, a woven good-luck charm from Africa. She had never taken it off.

  She lost herself in memories, touching her talisman that hung from a chain around her neck. Her cheeks became wet. “Come on, Kate… You can do this,” she sighed and sniffled sadly. “Let’s see what’s in these boxes…” she whispered, and opened the first moving box — the last tear fell onto the cardboard lid.