I stop for groceries after leaving Dalton, loading up on fresh fruits and vegetables, eggs, bread, rice and fish. Many of the shelves in the supermarket are nearly empty; I guess a lot of people stocked up before yesterdays snowstorm. I grab some tortilla chips and fresh salsa from the organic section. When I pass the spices, I toss a container of coriander into the cart, too, smiling to myself.

The empty apartment feels colder when I get back. I check the thermostat, but the heat is working fine.

Its so quiet here. As I stack the groceries in the refrigerator and pantry, I start humming an old Beatles tune. Id love to call Kurt up, just for a chat, but he only left about three hours ago. Maybe Ill send him a text in an hour or so. Just to make sure he got home okay.

I settle down to watch TV when the silence gets too overwhelming. There are hundreds of shows to choose from on cable. Recalling what Kurt said about mindless television, I put on a rerun of The Bachelorette, but I cant get into it. Finally I cave, deciding to text him to see what hes up to. I head into the kitchen looking for my cell phone, and—

Oh, right. I left my cell at my parents house.

The realization leaves me feeling more isolated than ever. I click through the TV channels, settling on a showing of Elf and feeling terribly sorry for myself. The movie is nearly over — Buddy has run away from home — when I hear a knock at the door.

Im careful to look through the peephole before pulling the chain lock, and Im grinning like a lunatic by the time I get the door open. "Hey!"

Kurts grinning back at me just as inanely. He has a large duffle bag slung over one shoulder. "Hey yourself."

"Why didnt you just use your key?"

"It wouldve been rude." His eyes are positively dancing with mischief. I swear, hes so beautiful it makes my knees weak. "Seeing as I brought guests."

"Guests?"

He turns and makes a beckoning motion behind him, and two kids our age follow him into the apartment. One is a blonde girl, dressed in a sweater set and wool pants. The other is a rough-looking boy with a mohawk, who juts his chin toward me awkwardly.

"Hey, man. Sucks about your brain."

"Thanks…"

"Puck. I mean, Noah, but people call me Puck."

"And this is Quinn," Kurt says, gesturing to the blonde. She gives a little wave. "We all went to McKinley together. Puck and Quinn were in glee with us."

I nod politely. "Well, uh... welcome to our apartment. I mean, my cousins apartment."

"Nice digs," Puck says, looking around. He wanders off without an invitation, and Kurt shrugs as if to say Thats Puck. "Whoa!" he calls from my bedroom. "I totally knew you two had to have some love nest where you went to do the nasty. We should shine a black light in here, bet it looks like a goddamn motel room."

"Anyway," Quinn says pointedly, "Kurt, maybe you should tell Blaine why were all here."

Kurts eyes light up again. "When I finished doing inventory at the shop, I went to call you, to see what you were up to. And then I remembered that youd left your phone at your parents house."

"Right…"

"So I think we should get it back."

I shake my head. "I appreciate the thought — believe me, I do — but I really dont want to see my parents right now."

"Me neither." He rocks back and forth on his heels, grinning. "Thats why Quinn and Puck are here. Were all going to steal it back."

"Were what?"

"Quinns here because she looks wholesome and innocent." She makes a snorting noise, and Kurt adds, "I said looks. And Pucks here–"

"Because Im the only criminal you know," Puck says, returning to the room.

"Right." Kurt walks over to the dining room table, opening up his duffle bag. "So Quinn is going to create a diversion. Shell knock on your parents door pretending that her car broke down. While your parents are occupied with her, the three of us will sneak into your house and steal your phone back."

"I appreciate the thought, but all this isnt necessary. My mother plays bridge every Wednesday afternoon; I can go over then and get it."

"You really want to wait three whole days before you can have access to a phone again?"

I blink at him. "But I mean... theres three feet of snow on the ground. My parents would hear us if we tried to trudge through all that to find an open window."

"Ah, but whats the first thing your mother always does after a snowstorm has ended?"

"She..." My eyes widen slightly as realization dawns. "She has the gardener come dig out the rose bushes."

"Right. And since theyre on the side of the house—"

"He has to dig a path that runs right underneath a lot of the windows." I have to hand it to him, hes really thought this through. I chew on my lip, glancing at Puck and Quinn, then back to Kurt, before coming to a decision. "Okay, Im in. Whats the plan?"

He claps his hands excitedly, then starts pulling items out of his duffle bag. "Well be going once night falls, so well need to dress all in black. Ive chosen fabrics that have a matte surface, so your parents wont catch the reflection off the sheen if they look outside. Its a shame, because I have a gorgeous black silk turtleneck that Ive been dying to try out."

Quinn speaks up. "Ill park halfway down the street and walk to Blaines house. That way his father will be less likely to offer to come outside and try to fix the car himself. Kurt said the cold bothers the arthritis in his knees."

"Makes sense," I nod, as Kurt continues pulling shirts, pants, gloves and ski masks out of the bag.

"Ill knock on the door and say that I broke down on the way to visit my grandmother," she continues.

"Theyll ask who your grandmother is," I interrupt. "Go with Mrs. Morrow. Shes an obscenely wealthy recluse who lives about five miles down the road. No one knows much of anything about her background, but my mom has always been intrigued by her. Shed never turn away Mrs. Morrows grandchild. And she wouldnt offer to drive you the rest of the way, not when she could pump you for information."

"What sort of information?"

"Oh, shell probably ask where your grandmothers money comes from, and why she keeps herself holed up in that mansion, and why nobody has ever come to visit her before. You can make up your answers; as I said, no one knows anything about her, other than her last name. Just sound confident when youre talking. My mom will buy it."

Quinn nods. "Ill tell them I called AAA but that they might take over an hour. Ill ask if they—"

"Dont ask," I correct her. "Knock on the door, apologize for the inconvenience and the late hour, but say that your car broke down on your way to visit your grandmother. Youve called AAA, but its been terribly cold sitting in the car while you wait. Then just stand there."

"And dont say anything?"

"No. A proper young lady wouldnt ask. Shed state her situation and wait to be invited in."

"What if they dont invite me?"

"They will." I watch Kurt rifle deeper in the bag and pull out what look like huge fuzzy slippers. "What are those?"

"If we climbed in the window and went walking around the house, wed leave wet tracks from the snow on our soles. Well slip these over our shoes once were inside." He pulls out the last item, a large rolled sheet of paper. "Now, lets figure out our strategy once were inside." He unrolls the paper, and Im stunned to find myself looking at a blueprint of my parents house.

"How did you get that?"

"You dont want to know." He positions some of the gloves atop every corner to keep the paper unrolled, then moves to the other side of the table so that we can all look at it. "I figure our likeliest entry point will be your fathers study."

"Probably the best option," I agree. "Its along the path to the rose bushes. Mom tends to keep the thermostat higher than Dad prefers, and when hes in his study he cracks the window open. Even if its closed tonight, Ill bet it will still be unlocked."

Puck leans over my shoulder, peering at the blueprint. "Okay, so where did Blaine leave the phone, so we know where to look for it?"

"Thats the part of the plan that Im most concerned about," Kurt admits. "Blaines parents used his cell phone to call me last night. And we have no way of knowing where they left it afterwards." He gestures to the first level of the house. "Well start at the ground floor in hopes that its there — it would offer us the easiest exit point. Blaine, where would your parents bring Quinn after they invited her in?"

"The parlor," I reply at once. Its the standard receiving room. "Mom will offer her tea and her homemade cookies."

"Ill just tell her Im full or something," Quinn says.

"No, youll need to accept. Because theres a chance my dad will be so engrossed in his work that a strange girl at the door wont interest him. But almond cookies are his weakness. When he realizes Mom is serving them, hell be sure to come out and join you. Then once hes there, he wont leave. It would be impolite."

"Okay. And then once the three of us are all settled in the parlor, Ill pretend to send a text message to my parents to let them know where I am. But Ill actually be texting Puck to let him know that its safe to come in."

"If you see the cell phone in the parlor, Quinn, youll need to find a way to steal it yourself without being caught, and then text us to make sure we dont come in," Kurt says. "Otherwise, well enter the house and begin our search." He points out the different rooms on the blueprint. "The study would obviously be the preferred location, but chances are good that they left the phone in a more communal area. The kitchen, dining room, and living room arent visible from the parlor, so well search there if its not in Mr. Andersons study. If we still cant find it, then well move upstairs. The second story has Blaines bedroom, his parents bedroom, three guest rooms and several bathrooms. Its a safe bet that they wouldnt have left it in a guest room or bathroom, so wed be searching the two main bedrooms. If we do have to search the second floor, Blaine and I will go alone. Puck, youll head outside and wait for us there."

Puck frowns. "Why?"

"Im assuming its because of the creaky floorboards," I supply.

Kurt nods. "There were a couple of times when Blaine and I had to sneak into the house without being heard, so he taught me where to step on the stairs and in the hallways to avoid making a sound. We cant chance having you there, Puck, because one creak could give us away. If we have to go upstairs, youll proceed outside and wait for us there." He traces one finger down the hallway on the blueprint. "Once we have the phone, well exit through the study window. The Andersons have never met Puck, so hes going to pose as the mechanic sent by AAA. Ive borrowed a set of overalls from my dads shop for him to wear. Hell say he was able to start the car, and Quinn can be on her way."

"What if Blaines dad asks what was wrong with the car?" Puck asks.

"Just be rude. Say its none of his business, and you have a lot of other stops to make tonight so you have to go."

"Rude I can do."

"Blaine and I will be hiding in your backseat by then, so you can just get in your car and go." Kurt turns to Quinn, looking serious. "If at any point during this operation you feel like you need to be removed from the house — if they find holes in your background story, or they somehow recognize you — send a 911 message to Puck and well have him extract you early. Got it?"

"Got it," she nods.

"I think thats it." Kurt rolls up the blueprint carefully as Puck notices the TV behind us.

"Ooh, I love Elf," he says excitedly. "And its at the best part, too. Do we have time to order a couple of pizzas, you think? Freaking starving."

"Sure, just make one of them plain." Kurt turns back to me, looking a little unsure. "So."

"So," I echo back.

"Thats the plan. What do you think?"

I shake my head fondly. "I think youre the single most interesting kid in all of Ohio," I tell him, and I swear his smile could light the room.

Its dark outside by the time we arrive on my parents street. I direct Puck to park his car in front of the Olsens house — Mr. Olsen holds a poker tournament every Sunday evening, and no one will notice an extra car at the curb. Puck kills the lights, and the three of us don our ski masks and gloves before exiting the car. I take the lead, walking carefully down the road and keeping an eye out for witnesses. Its just after dinner, though, and the neighbors seem to be otherwise occupied.

We reach the hedges that form the border to my parents property and pause, waiting. After a few minutes, headlights appear down the road, and we crouch behind the hedges. The car pulls to a stop in front of the Hendersons house. Quinn gets out, smoothing down her peacoat before squaring her shoulders and striding toward my house. As she passes, Puck whispers loudly, "Hell yeah, baby, how much for one night?" and she daintily raises her middle finger without glancing our way. She draws nearer to the front porch, and at this point Im pretty sure my heart is about to beat out of my chest.

Kurt lets out a shaky breath beside me. Is he nervous? He seemed so calm earlier. I reach down, feeling in the dark for his hand and squeezing it. We watch as my mother opens the door and peers at Quinn curiously. I wish I could hear their conversation. Its only a few seconds before Mom ushers Quinn into the house and shuts the door.

"It worked," Puck says admiringly. "Not bad, Fabray."

We creep cautiously down the driveway, staying low and trying to avoid any snow that might crunch underfoot. The path to the rose bushes is mercifully cleared, and I lead Kurt and Puck to the study window. The window is cracked slightly. Kurt raises his eyebrows, but I shake my head quickly. I can hear my father inside, humming while he works. We stay perfectly still, trying not to make a sound. Finally, theres the telltale footsteps of my mother approaching.

"Harold!" she hisses. "Constance Morrows granddaughter is here!"

"Whos Constance Morrow?" he asks, sounding bored.

"You know, the rich old lady who lives in the estate on St. Pierre!"

"Mrs. Morrow? I didnt know her name was Constance."

"Well neither did I, but as I said, her granddaughter is here. Come be sociable, please."

"Cece, I really need to work on this."

"I just set out some tea and butterscotch cookies."

"Ill be right in," he says at once.

Kurt catches my eye, mouthing Almond cookies? I shrug. Sometimes even my parents arent completely predictable.

We wait together, hunching over Pucks cell phone. After what feels like eternity, it lights up with a new message: Mission is a go. Also, tell Blaine to get me the recipe for these cookies, because damn.

"Last chance to chicken out," Puck whispers.

I hook my fingers under the window, sliding it up soundlessly. "Slippers?" I breathe. Kurt presses a pair into my hand, looking anxious. I hoist myself onto the sill and wink at them both before disappearing inside.