There was a sharp knocking at the door. Joyce opened it to find a man in a black trench coat and hat looking at her.

"Mrs. Byers? Joyce Byers?"

"Yes?" she said a little nervous about this strange man.

"I have something for you," he said reaching into his jacket and pulling out a large envelope, "A letter."

"A letter? You don't look like a mailman" She said taking the envelope.

"No, no. I'm with a...different delivery organization. Actually, some of us at the office were hoping you could shed some light on this. You see this letter came all the way from Kamchatka, Russia. It came to us through channels of absolute secrecy that most of us didn't even know existed with explicit instructions to be delivered to a woman of your description answering to the name of Joyce Byers. With all due respect, ma'am, moving away made finding you a bit difficult."

Joyce was amazed at this story as she opened the large envelope to find a smaller envelope, obviously the one with the letter before asking, "Did you say this came from Russia?"

"Yep, Kamchatka, Russia, that's about 4,321 miles. Hell of a long ride for one little bit of paper, don't you think?"

Joyce was naturally nervous, "had someone tracked me down?" she thought to herself. But, as nervous as she was about this, she opened the letter and her eyes shot open when she glanced at the bottom of the second page and saw it said it was from Jim Hopper. She read ahead in shock:

Dear Joyce,

I hope to god this finds you in one piece. I only got this out because I made a friend in one of my guards who said he could get a letter to the right people. First, let me tell you that I AM ALIVE. I got captured by the soldiers at the mall after the explosion and got taken back here to Russia as their prisoner. So you know this isn't some sick prank or a trap or something, your original name is Joyce Veronica Horowitz, you married Lonnie Byers after he knocked you up when you were nineteen, you have two sons, Jonathan Noah Byers and William Charles Byers, you work at Melvald's Department Store and, here's the extra personal part, in the fifth grade, you wet your pants on a field trip laughing at a friend's joke. Hopefully, that convinced you. After the machine blew up, I..."

"OH MY GOD!" Joyce shouted, making the delivery man jump. There was more to the letter, but Joyce was feeling too many emotions from what she already read to finish just yet.

She turned to run back inside before the man grabbed her arm "Wait a minute, lady, what's this all about?"

Joyce was too excited to think straight, "He's alive! Hop's alive! He's being held prisoner over in Russia, but, he's alive!"

Before she could turn again, the delivery man continued, "Yeah, but, lady, you all right? You need any help?"

Joyce knew what had to be done, "There's only one man who can help me," she said before pulling away, heading back inside and slamming the door, leaving the confused delivery man standing there before she opened the door again.

"I'm sorry, that was awfully rude of me, you probably want a tip for your troubles, here you go," she said, putting some money in the man's hand.

He looked at what he'd been handed with a smile, "Twenty bucks? Well, thank you, ma'am, that's very generous of you."

"Oh, you have no idea. Listen, what's your name?"

"Phil" he responded, a little confused.

"Well, listen, Phil, I can't go into details, but, just know with this letter, you may have just helped save a man's life and that makes you a hero in my book. Thank you! Thank you so much!" she yelled in happiness before slamming the door again.

Phil walked back to his car with a decent-sized grin. He still had no idea what the hell was going on, but, that nice lady called him a hero and that was good enough for him.