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Day?”
    “There are a lot fewer families around to be suspicious.”
    “Suspicious of what?”
    “Chris, listen, and listen well. The people you care for will only end up hurting you in the end. So the less you care, the less painful it will be. Because in the end, everybody dies. Do you understand? Everybody.”

12. The Joker
    I hold the Zippo lighter in my hand, an old relic that supposedly belonged to dear old great-grandpa, who my mom thinks died in World War I.
    Who turns to a rotting corpse before your very eyes if you wait around long enough.
    I went into a store in Asheville to fill it with fluid, but it still doesn’t work. The guy told me it was too old to ignite. Yet I keep flicking it, trying. Flicking it to see if anything comes, even the slightest spark.
    As I do I can’t stop thinking of something.
    I never had a chance to tell Lily good-bye.
    With Jocelyn, it was different. She knew how I felt, and she also knew what was coming. But Lily’s death was somehow, in a strange way, more shocking. Not the how but the why. The suddenness of it. One minute I’m sitting right next to her, and the next she’s gone.
    Because in the end, everybody dies. Everybody.
    Marsh might not be right about many things, but he’s certainly right about that.
    I’m in my cabin thinking of everything but mostly thinking of Lily. I recall what she said about heaven.
    If heaven is real, I don’t want to go. Because it’s probably bright and sunny, and I won’t belong there.
    In this cabin, stuck in this dark town that’s terrorized by evil people and hidden secrets, I want to believe in that bright and sunny place. A place of hope. A place of second chances.
    I tried. I tried to do it on my own and I failed. Badly.
    I want to tell Lily that. I want to tell her how sorry I am that after everything that happened, it had to end so fast.
    Boom.
    For some reason, I think of the Joker. It’s stupid, but it’s just me and my thoughts so I can let them be as lame as I want. So I think of the Joker from The Dark Knight . No, I take that back. I think of Heath Ledger, who played him in an insane role that could never be duplicated.
    Then …
    Boom.
    Just like that, he’s gone. And he’s immortalized and will forever live on.
    He was so young, with so much potential and promise. But like all of us, he wasn’t guaranteed tomorrow.
    I wish I had that Bible that Dad gave me. I’m thinking that maybe somewhere inside I could find some wisdom or encouragement. Anything.
    Maybe that’s too simplistic a notion. That this rule book of sorts will give me some answers. But I need something. And watching The Dark Knight for the millionth time probably won’t help me much.
    Heath Ledger didn’t get a chance for another act. But I’m still here, and still in the story and ready for another act. Perhaps a final act for Solitary.
    If that’s the case, I need to do everything I can to be the hero I’m able to be.
    That maybe I’ve always been destined to be.

13. Vessel
    The maps app on my iPhone doesn’t work that well around these spiraling roads and rolling hills. Still, I finally am able to find Zebulon Lane not because of my GPS but because I’m stopping at every road off this side street of a side street of Sable Road. And because I see the sign.
    The road reminds me a bit of the one leading up to the Crag’s Inn, yet this one looks even worse with deep ruts in the road and even a few dead tree limbs stretched out over it. It doesn’t look like anybody’s driven here for a while.
    Maybe the address on the mannequin is an old one. Maybe there won’t be anything or anybody at 1947 Zebulon Lane.
    I slow down at a driveway dropping from the road. I look down and see a modern-looking house on the side of the mountain. Half of the house is propped up by beams, and a long deck circles that part. This isn’t a cabin at all, but looks like some kind of funky house designed by a famous architect.
    Like those Frank Lloyd Wright houses