Response to Writer's Digest prompt.

Here is my response to a prompt on the Writer's Digest website. Okay here's the prompt: One week after attending the funeral of a close friend, you receive a postcard in the mail with the words, "I'm not dead. Meet me tonight at Guido's Pizzeria. Tell no one."
And here's my response:
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It had been about a week since Andy died. He had been my best friend and since he died I've barley had the energy to get out of bed in the morning let alone leave the house. Really the only thing that I ever did really get out of bed for--minus the essentials--was to get the mail. I've always liked reading junk mail when I'm depressed. But today with all the cable and credit-card offers I got a post card as well. The front had a picture of a duck talking on a cellphone--it had been a inside joke between Andy and me--and on the back it said:
I'm not dead. Meet me tonight at Guido's Pizzeria. Tell no one.
"Andy?" I whispered allowed.
For the first time in a week I grabbed my cote and purse and ran out the door. If this was really Andy then I needed to see him. And if it was a cruel joke then I had to kill whoever was getting the laughs.
When I got to Guido's Pizzeria I started looking around frantically. Suddenly I saw what looked like Andy in his only disguise. The same one he used when we wanted to sneak out, I had one too. Our code names had been Fernando(him) and Julie(me).
"Andy? Is that you?" I exclaimed.
"Shh! Don't say it so loud!"
"Sorry, is that you?" I said this time whispering.
"Yes it's me but I can't stay long."
"Why?" I asked. "And why did you have to fake your death?"
"Whiteness protection. They said I couldn't tall anyone I was still alive but I just had to see you one more time before they re-located me."
"Where are they going to take you?"
"I can't tell you that. Not just for my protection but for yours as well."
"But what happened?"
"I witnessed a murder," he said simply.
"Will I ever get to see you again?" I said holding back tears.
He bit his lip. "I don't think so. Maybe if the murderer is found but it's hard to come back from the dead and he might still have allies out there."
I nodded. "Take me with you!" I pleaded.
"No I can't do that to you. Look it's just best if you try and forget this hole thing."
At that he got up and walked out the door. I got up and ran to the door but I was too late and all there was left was dust in the air from his car speeding off. Well not quite all that was left.
Three weeks later I got another note in the mail--this time the monkey was eating pizza--that said:
I just wanted you to know that I'm fine and I've settled down now. I still can't tell you where I am but I want you to know that I miss you! I hope I will get to see you again some time.
Love Fernando.
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What do you think?