After everyone left, Henry went upstairs, expecting to find Emily the way he had seen her for weeks, asleep. However, to his surprise, he found her with her knees pulled up to her chest, crying and whimpering. He sat down next to her.

"Hey," he said gently, "What's wrong?"

"I don't ever want to sleep ever again," she responded.

"I understand."

"Henry," Emily whispered, "I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

She turned her head away, and wiped her eyes.

"Were you having a bad dream?"

She nodded. He sighed.

"You'll have the netherworld dreams for a while, and then-"

"Henry, " Emily interrupted quietly, "I'm not having the netherworld dreams."

Henry furrowed his eyebrows and asked, "You're not?"

She shook her head.

"Well, if you aren't having the netherworld dreams, what dreams are you having?"

She shook, obviously holding back more tears and remained silent.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me," Henry said, "You don't have to."

"My nightmare was of you," Emily blurted, "I was reliving what happened in the nightmare room."

"How is that possible?"

"The nightmare room enchants its victims," Emily explained, "I'm cursed to relive that nightmare for eternity."

She shivered at the thought.

"Shouldn't true love's kiss have lifted that?" Henry asked.

"Though true love is strong, it's not enough on its own. Not for this. We need something else."

"Let's sleep on it," Henry suggested, though Emily's eyes widened in terror of the idea of sleeping, "If you have a nightmare, wake me."

"Okay," Emily lamented skeptically, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Henry responded, "If you have a nightmare, I'm more than willing to sit next to you and hold your hand. Okay?"

"Fine."

"Alright then. Goodnight Emily."

She smiled weakly.

"Goodnight."