I haven’t left my house in 5 days. I haven’t left my room for so much as going to the bathroom and smuggling in meals. My parents will check in periodically, but they let me shelter myself for the week as long as I go to therapy on Monday. It’s Saturday now.

I keep a notebook under my bed--my old diary. All the pages have been ripped out and replaced with my gameplan. I guard this with my life, which isn’t super necessary. My parents and older sister aren’t going to snoop through my room.

It’s about time I read over my personal rules again, written on the first page. I have it titled “Three Lies”, because lying is essential to my mission.

Lie One- the card doesn’t exist

I’ve ripped up and flushed the card already. I’m not about to use it as proof he’s alive to anyone. No one could possibly believe it. They don’t know him well enough to believe my claim. No one can know. Unless, of course, another person got a card like mine. But thoughts like that make this lie impossible so I have to push that idea out of my head.

Lie Two- Tell Parents That Expeditions Are Just a New Hobby

Ah, yes. In case I forgot to inform you, I’m about to take up bicycling. I’m packing a backpack, planning for short but frequent trips gathering clues, and then one big trip at the end--much later. I could tell you where I plan to venture but that would kinda ruin the tension.

Lie Three-All the while constantly remind yourself not to get your hopes up. He’s dead. These adventures are a hobby to help with grief.

There’s always a chance I’m wrong. He very well could be dead and tricking me beyond the grave. I could be hallucinating this. There is always a chance. But I’m going to take the most hopeful chance I’ve got and run with it, I just can’t tell myself that.