She reaches the kitchen, glances back. His voice echoes through the darkness. "I'm coming..."
Seeing a notepad and pen, she scrawls something, rips off the page and leaves it on the table. She continues into the dining room.
Waking up in bed later, her heart pounding, skin clammy, she sees the blanket folded back on Kevin's side. She goes downstairs and finds him sitting at the kitchen table, grim-faced.
"Who the hell wrote that?" he says.
Laura looks at the message: 'It's not a dream.'