Kenn looked down at a scrap of weathered paper in his hands for the umpteenth time as he read the blotchy, hand-written text. It read a Chinese phone number. As a citizen of North Korea, Kenn faced a life-long prison sentence if this seemingly insignificant piece of paper was discovered. And yet he’d kept it hidden all these years, as a life preserver of sorts, in case a certain day should ever come along. Today was that day.