Red. How deeply ironic. It's red that spills out as he completes each kill. It's red, blood. Red - the blood that burns in his veins. Wakefield blood. His blood.

His father's blood. Her blood. And hers. The blood that binds them completely, ties him with her. Red as Trish's painted lips.

Red like his name and Trish's intertwined on those silly, showy jackets. Red, the colour of love. and how right. Because he is doing this for love.

His true love. His best friend. Love is making her wish come true, making his dreams come true. Abby.