Roberto stood beside me. I saw the fear in his eyes, but I also saw the courage, and I instantly forgave him all the weeks of arrogance and bullheadedness. “We may be walking to our deaths,” I said, “but I would rather walk to meet my death than wait for it to come to me.” Roberto nodded. “You and I are friends, Nando,” he said. “We have been through so much. Now let’s go die together.” We walked to the western lip of the summit, eased ourselves over the edge, and began to make our way down.
