Then Leonard Ross spoke up quietly from near the fireplace.

“You really need to look at this second photograph, Hannah,” the old man said gently.

He walked over to the mantelpiece and picked up a small plastic sleeve holding a faded photograph I hadn’t seen before.

It showed the back of the cabin, taken through a thick cluster of pine trees.

The date stamp in the corner read: “October 16.”

A tall figure in a dark canvas jacket stood near the edge of the service trail.