“But if it’s not real . . . then what is it?”

“An elaborate illusion, designed to look and feel just like the real thing.”

“An illusion? Mom, this isn’t making any sense.”

Her mother gave a tentative smile and invited Amy to sit back down. “All of this was created by Ryan,” she said. “On the night he died, at the very moment of his passing, his spirit made a choice not to cross over.”

“Why?”

“Because his spirit refused to accept what had happened. It rejected the idea that Ryan’s time on earth had come to an end, and so this fantasy was created instead. Ryan’s been trapped here since the night he drowned, imprisoned inside this false existence, tricked into thinking that life has carried on.”

Amy gave herself a moment to fully digest the absurdity of that statement. She’d never heard anything so bizarre. It set off so many questions, she didn’t even know where to begin.

“I don’t understand how something like this is even possible.”

“The human spirit is capable of some incredible things.”

“What, like being able to create entirely fake towns?”

“We create elaborate dreams when we’re asleep—this is simply another level beyond that.”

“Okay, but . . . still . . . isn’t this a little extreme? Even if what you’re saying is true, why would Ryan go to such lengths just to fool himself?”

“Well, in Ryan’s case there were factors that prevented him from being able to move on, reasons why his spirit felt it needed to take these drastic measures.”

“Like what ?”

“Like his deep love for his father, his devotion to him, his need to protect him from the problems facing the ranch, problems for which he blamed himself. This is what interfered with his transition.”

“You’re saying he ended up in here as punishment just because he loved his father too much?”

“It’s more than that, Amy. You saw it for yourself—Ryan’s world was centered around his father. His singular purpose in life was to care for him, to make sure he got better. His father was everything to Ryan, and so the notion that he couldn’t protect him anymore, particularly from the catastrophe about to descend upon the ranch, wasn’t just incomprehensible—it was, quite literally, a fate worse than death. And that’s why, when death did come, Ryan’s spirit did what it had to do—it built this place to save him from having to confront the truth. Don’t think of it as punishment. Think of it as an act of self-preservation.”

Lost for words, Amy fired a stunned glance back toward the shore, past the beach and the dunes, to the dark cluster of Seabrook’s shadowy buildings.