Rachel was still smiling when she closed the car door. Through the restaurant window, her friends raised their glasses for one last Halloween toast. She waved, set her bag down, and noticed the folded paper on the passenger seat. She opened it beneath the dome light and read: Don’t let it know you’ve read this. Start the car. Don’t look in the back seat.

Rachel kept her eyes on the paper. The handwriting was hers, right down to the little hook on the capital D and the way she crowded the last words against the edge. She read it again, trying to remember writing it, trying to think of anyone who could have copied it so precisely. Her keys rested in her lap. She could still see her friends through the glass; she could open the door and walk back inside.

Below the warning, a thin black stroke appeared. Rachel watched it curve into a capital S. The next letter joined it, then another, each formed in her own familiar hand. She held the paper perfectly still as the final letter finished and a small dot settled beneath it.

Scream.

Who would you want waving from that window? Give someone you love Zombie Lips for everyday lip conditioning and cold sore care when it's needed.

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