I wake with a start. I'm deliciously cozy and warm, with Rune spooning me from behind, but I've got a full bladder and a dream I need to remember. There's something Theo wants me to do urgently. I can hear his voice in my head saying, this is why your mother's so freaked out, sweetheart. She doesn't want her secret known.

Reluctantly, I slip out of bed and scramble into my sweats in the chill gray light. I flip on the bathroom light, but the power's still out. We left our phones in the living room, but even though it's still raining, I can tell from the gray rainy light it's probably close to five am.

I splash my face with water and brush my teeth, all while trying to remember. This is the first time I've ever dreamt about Theo. We were sitting in the living room, having a conversation, like we did so many times. He told me my mom is behaving badly because she has a secret, and she's terrified Franklin will leak it to the press.

As if two false paternity claims that are pointing to one actual surprise paternity reveal weren't bad enough.

When I return to the bedroom, Rune has rolled onto his stomach. He's facing towards me but still sound asleep. His red-gold hair is a tousled mess. Clean-shaven, with his face relaxed in sleep, he looks about twenty right now. He's so cherubic it's all I can do to not climb back into bed and wake him. I know from Lorelei, though, he's not a morning person, so I resist. I don't want any grumpiness to mess with my perfect memories of last night.

It's not until I've let Butterscotch outside that a snippet of the dream comes back to me. Hugging my arms around myself and staying under the overhang out of the rain, I pace back and forth while I run the scene over and over in my mind.

This time I remember Theo's showing me a medium-sized manila envelope addressed to Rune in his messy, distinctive scrawl. He wants me to find it and give it to Rune immediately. It's in a drawer somewhere, he says, but where? This old house is full of cabinets and drawers.

Theo, I need some help, I tell him as Butterscotch and I come back in. I give her breakfast and keep replaying the dream snippet, trying to find clues. While making myself tea, I quickly search through all of the built-in drawers in the dining room. No luck. Same for the two drawers in the built in bookshelf in the living room.

I try distracting myself by putting the living room back into order, straightening the cushions, and refolding the throw blanket that ended up on the floor last night. This only makes me want to wake Rune again, so I take myself into the office with my tea to search there.

Standing in the middle of the antique furniture-filled room, I slowly peruse each likely candidate. As my eyes run over a shoulder-height cabinet full of narrow drawers, the dream flashes in my mind again crystal clear.

Theo and I are standing right here together. He's showing me that the manila envelope is in the top drawer of this cabinet. It's one of the ones I still need to clean out. I take a deep breath and try to open it, but it has a lock and won't open. Crap.

Theo, where's the key? I ask but get radio silence.

Upstairs, I hear Rune go into the bathroom while I run into the laundry room to dig at the collection of spare keys Uncle Reuben kept in a box in the pantry. None of them is remotely tiny enough for a drawer key. I run back into the office and start looking through drawers at random. It's going to take forever to do a proper search.

Rune keeps walking around upstairs, so maybe he's really awake. Has he ever played a thief? Could he possibly pick a lock if we can't find the key? I go back into the kitchen and make him a strong cup of coffee with plenty of sugar as an offering.

Rune's sitting up in bed in his much-nicer-than-mine sweatshirt, and crazy bedhead, writing in a journal.

"Hello," I say brightly, handing him the coffee, "Any chance you know how to pick a lock?"

This gets his right eyebrow to quirk at me, "That's not really the first thing I was hoping you'd say to me this morning," he says dryly.

"How about, you were amazing, which you were, let's please do it again very soon, do you know how to pick an antique lock?" I crawl up next to him and run my hand through his messy hair.

"Much better," he smiles and pulls me closer with his free hand for a coffee flavored kiss, "why do you need a lock picked in the middle of the night?"

"I had a dream and Theo said it's urgent," I tell him.

"I can certainly check it out," he says, "Is it right now urgent, or can we wait a few hours until normal people are awake and functioning?"

"I hate to break it to you; I'm often up this early," I tell him, "I'd feel better if we could get this figured out." How cozy this is. I wish we didn't have a mystery to solve.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"Okay," Rune grimaces dramatically, "how virtuous you must feel when the rest of us laggards are still sleeping."

"Completely, it makes me so popular," I grin, "Speaking of which, why are you awake? It's only 5:30 or so."

"Trust me, if I hadn't just had more sleep than I've had since I was a very small child, I wouldn't be. Is that all Theo said, you have to get this drawer open?"

"Theo showed me a manilla envelope I'm supposed to show you immediately, which is supposed to explain why my mom is particularly freaked out about being blackmailed."

"Wow, you really are a psychic witch," Rune shakes his head and puts his coffee cup down, "Okay, Seashell, let's see if I can open this drawer."

The lock in question is so small nothing I have will slip into it, not a knife edge, ice pick, a paper clip, Rune's Swiss Army knife, or anything else we can think of.

"Come on, you psychic minx," Rune says, snapping a pic of it and then taking my hand and leading me out of the office. He picks up his second duffle bag from the living room, "If we search the house, we'll be at it for hours. We'll find the right tool or a locksmith when we go into town in a bit. In the meantime, I've got a present for you."

"You got a present for me for your birthday?" I ask, following him up the stairs, feeling better now that we have a plan. It's always better to have a plan.

"Well," he says over his shoulder with a wink, "it's kind of a baseball mitt type of present."

"It's not from my Sexpectations list, is it?" I ask, starting to feel worried.

"Give me a little credit for emotional maturity, Shells," he laughs at my expression as we enter the bedroom, "No. I did not go shopping for sex toys without you."

My gift is a beautiful, tan, lightweight, full-length cashmere robe. I carefully remove it from the pretty pink and white striped tissue paper, complete with satin ribbon, as we climb into the bed again. I run my hands over the robe's incredible softness. I've never received such a luxurious present in my life.

"You were afraid I had an ugly terry cloth bathrobe, you brat," I fake scold.

"A little," he admits with a chuckle, "but I also thought it would be perfect for traveling since it's so lightweight. And I'll have you know it was completely sustainably produced."

"Are we going someplace?" I ask, my stomach doing an excited little flip.

"Not immediately," he tells me, "But if things get too crazy, we might want to find another luxurious cabin to hide out in."

"I'd like that," I beam at him and slip off the bed with the robe, "I'll be right back."

**

As much as we'd like to stay in bed all morning, our growling stomachs disagree. After quick, uncomfortably cold sponge baths, we throw on our clothes and drive out into the wet, chilly, gray morning. This early, even the most devout paparazzi aren't following us. I give Rune directions to a small roadside diner nearby that serves amazing hashbrowns. Eggs Up is adjacent to a filling station of all places. It's still raining quite hard. The parking lot's empty but the open sign is lit. Perfect.

We're pulling around the back to park out of sight when our phones start buzzing crazily. Most of mine are texts from my sister and my dad. I'm about to text my dad first when I get a call from Sydney.

"What the fuck is going on! Has Mom gone insane? Why the hell would Rune give in to a blackmailer?" She says low but frantically as I put her on speaker.

"We couldn't agree more." I tell her, "I'm in the car with Rune. Our power's out at home. We just got to a place with Wi-Fi. Where are you?"

"Grants Pass," she says, "I'm standing in the parking lot of our motel waiting for Nils to wake up."

"I thought you were staying at a fancy resort in Ashland," I say.

"We were until I realized some asshole was taking Nil's photo at the indoor pool late yesterday afternoon. I pushed him into the water when he refused to delete the images he'd taken. Nils and I ran, told the concierge all about it, and then packed up and left."

"Oh, my God! Syd, you weren't followed, were you?" I ask while Rune swears silently.

"No, I made sure, but what the fuck is going on?"

"No matter what Franklin told your mom, he already set photographers after us all," Rune tells her, as he starts texting quickly. I'm sure it's to Gunnar to warn him.

"This is so fucked," Syd growls, sounding like she's pacing.

"Syd, listen, why don't you drive straight here?" I ask, "You'll be here by dinner time. We can figure out a plan, and then you can take Nils to Canada or something for the rest of your vacation time."

"Okay," Syd concedes, "that's probably a smart move. But I don't relish running into Gunnar right now. If he doesn't kill me with this delightful new son surprise, I'm sure his fiancee will."

Rune and I stare at each other with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. This is not how I thought this would unfold.

"She may not be his fiancé anymore," Rune says carefully, "We have a lot to catch you up on from our side. Pamela tried to trick Jenna into signing the whole family up for a reality show. Gunnar's not too pleased with her right now."

"Oh shit, this just keeps getting better," Syd sighs, "Okay, there's the kiddo now. I've got to run. Keep me posted. It's a long car trip."

Rune and I hurry into the cafe. We're both wearing baseball caps this morning, Rune, his favorite black one, and me, an old army green one of Uncle Rueben's. As we hoped, the booth in the back is open. We slip into it gratefully.

"What do you like here?" Rune asks, studying the paper menu tacked up on the wall.

"I love their omelets and hashbrowns," I tell him, "But everything I've tried so far has been really yummy."

None of the older male middle aged and senior citizen diners at the counter have given us a second look which is another reason why I picked it. We decide to share a mushroom omelet, hashbrowns, and a side of blueberry pancakes. After the waitress leaves us with my tea and his coffee, Rune leans forward and takes my hand.

"I know that look in your eyes," he tells me, "What are you scheming about?"