Tritia lay staring up into the darkness, needing to go to the bathroom but afraid to get out of bed. He was out there, she knew. Somewhere close. She had heard earlier the low quiet sound of his engine approaching and then cutting off, but she had not heard it start up again. She knew she should wake Doug, but he’d been so tense lately, under so much stress, and had had such a difficult time falling asleep that she didn’t want to disturb him.

Upstairs, Billy’s bed creaked as he shifted restlessly in his sleep. He had been nervous and anxious the past two days, ever since they’d left him home when they went to the store, and she was worried about him. He was becoming ever more secretive. Once again, something was bothering him that he refused to discuss with them, and though she was trying to be patient and understanding, it was hard not to feel frustrated with his lack of cooperation.

The pressure between her legs increased. She would have to go to the bathroom soon. There were no two ways around that. And she would have to decide whether or not to wake Doug. He snored softly next to her, his breathing rough and irregular, and she found herself thinking for some reason of sleep apnia, a disease in which the sleeping brain forgot to work the involuntary functions of the body, and a person stopped breathing and his heart stopped beating and he never woke up.

Stop it, she told herself. You’re just being crazy.

The pressure increased yet again. She recalled with terrifying clarity the dream she’d had the night before. A dream in which she’d gone into the bathroom to take a bath and had lain in the warm sudsy relaxing water only to find that the mailman’s body was beneath her. A hand had reached up from the bubbles to silence her scream as his burning organ entered her from behind.

She reached over and cautiously nudged her husband. “Doug?” she said softly.

“What?” He jerked awake, instantly alert, instantly on the defensive.

“I’m afraid to go to the bathroom alone,” she said apologetically. “Would you come with me?”

He nodded, and even in the dark she could see the circles under his eyes. He stumbled out of bed, pulled on his robe, and they walked to the bathroom together. From the kitchen came the low sound of the refrigerator humming. Tritia reached around the corner, found the switch, and flipped on the bathroom light.

Sitting on the covered seat of the toilet was a white envelope.