A sentence could not return Corbin.
A locked institution could not bring Colby home alive.
No court ruling could erase ten years.
After his release from medical care, Travis returned to his parents’ home.
At first, ordinary life overwhelmed him.
Doors without locks frightened him because he could not understand why anyone would leave them unsecured.
A full refrigerator made him anxious.
He sometimes hid food in his room without realizing he had done it.
He woke before sunrise expecting Bennett’s schedule.
When someone called him by his real name unexpectedly, he occasionally failed to answer.
His mother learned not to touch him while he slept.
His father stopped asking when Travis would be “back to normal.”
Eventually, nobody used that phrase anymore.
There was no old normal waiting for him.
The nineteen-year-old who entered Pine Valley Canyon in 1998 had not been frozen somewhere for ten years.
He had lived every day.
Changed every day.
Survived every day.
Therapy forced him to confront the question that followed him home:
Had he betrayed his friends?
One psychologist asked him:
“When Bennett gave you extra food, what did you do?”
“Sometimes I gave it to Colby.”
“When you received freedom to move?”
“I looked for routes out.”
“When Bennett believed you were loyal?”
“I used that belief to convince him to leave the canyon.”
“Did you control Corbin and Colby?”
Travis stared at the floor.
“Sometimes I repeated Bennett’s orders.”
“Because you believed Bennett was right?”
