Back in the unfamiliar apartment, Dean spots a pile of mail on the kitchen table and starts riffling through it. The top few items are addressed to a Carmen Porter at 53 Barker Avenue in Lawrence, Kansas, but just below them lurks a cell phone bill addressed to Dean at the same house number. Barely has he muttered a confused "What the hell?" when Carmen materializes behind him in a blue silk robe to wonder, "Honey? What are you doing up?" Dean bluffs his way through the subsequent bit of banter -- during which a concerned Carmen promises him a little premarital nookie if he'll just stop it with the midnight rambling and come back to bed -- and after he agrees to join her shortly and sends her off with a kiss that is, on his part, rather stiff (not like that), he starts scoping the room for further clues. He finds a framed photograph of Carmen posing on a beach somewhere right next to others of the two of them enjoying a meal in an upscale restaurant, along with one little playful snapshot where Dean's got his arm around her and is obviously holding his own camera at arm's length to capture their grinning faces. I think I hate her for that one. But that's not important right now, for Dean's spotted yet another picture on a table across the room, and as a somewhat mournful oboe groans its emoish way onto the soundtrack, Dean crosses to lift the thing into the air, an expression of complete and somewhat horrified disbelief spreading across his face. We never get to see the photo itself, but what it portrays is so shocking to Our Intrepid Hero that he involuntarily lets it slip through his fingers to crash onto the floorboards. As the shattered bits of glass from the picture's frame glint in the low lamplight, Dean takes off out the apartment's front door.