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382 pages, Paperback
First published June 20, 2014











Paul Reid died in the snow at seventeen. The day of his death, he told a lie - and for the rest of his life, he wondered if that was what killed him.
A thing broke. A thing tore. A thing howled.
Bright, bright light. Too much.
All was light as the snowy windshield blazed at him in lines of hot stars.
The bus imploded into white.
Bump-di-di-bump.
"The Commons is its widely used designation. Others call it Sojourn, The Roundhouse, The Way Station. It's Purgatory to the Catholics, but their model's a bit off. It's named in thousands of other languages, not all of them spoken aloud."
Annie didn't want to know about autism. She wanted to know about Zach. Did he suffer? Was he happy, or was he lost? Was he truly autistic, or was that the easy answer for doctors chasing a goal of how many patients to see in a day?
"People decide their fates here. Do you believe there's no room for human feelings - that we forget how to love?"
"It's not love."
Across the asphalt, a phalanx of tractor-trailers in a range of colors, customization, and road-worthiness surrounded a cargo scale. A painted sign, a veteran of many cycles of fading and touch-ups, advertised coffee, beer, ammo, and fireworks.
"If this place is built on my thoughts, then maybe my world's pretty scary after all," Paul said, reading the sign.
"As long as nobody's using those simultaneously," said Porter.