(Editor's Note: If you have not yet read "The Letter", please go to the Horror Archive and read that story, first. Thank you, TDS.)

Elizabeth awoke with a jolt, realizing the noise that had roused her from the gory nightmare was her own scream of terror. She looked around the room in an attempt to reorient herself. Although she could not remember details of the dream, she was unable to shake the intense feelings of loss and grief, or the sensation of having escaped a world shrouded in red.

When a sharp corner of paper stabbed into her palm, Elizabeth looked down and discovered she was still clutching the letter from Steven's wife, asking him to come home, together with the photograph of their happy family. She began to cry once more.

"Oh, Steven, what have you done? We were so happy," she whispered, as tears trickled from her cheeks to land with a soft 'plop' on Steven's smiling face.

A few minutes later the doorbell rang and hastily wiping her eyes, Elizabeth crossed the room toward the front door. "Who is it?" she asked, cautiously.

"Me, Steven," came the reply.

Elizabeth opened the door, trying to figure out what to say. When she saw him standing there, however, she blurted out, "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"No, not that I can think of. Why?" Steven replied, as he tried to kiss her. When she pulled away from him, he asked, "What's wrong? Did I do something?"

"Did you do something?" she cried, fresh tears filling her eyes. "Maybe you should tell me who Annabelle, Johnny and Samantha are! Were you even going to tell me about your wife and children?"

"Who? Elizabeth, I don't know what you're talking about," he said, a puzzled look on his face.

"Really! Well, maybe this will refresh your memory!" she shouted and threw the photograph and letter against Steven's chest.