The next morning, Quinn awoke to the sound of her mother's voice and the feeling of her hands gently shaking her. Blinking sleepily, she looked up to see her mother smiling down at her.

"Good morning, Quinnie. Your father and I are about to leave. We'll be back in three days time, maybe even less if we are lucky. You stay here, alright? Don't go to any of the doors or the windows."

"I know, Mother." Quinn said sleepily, smiling up at the older blonde. Judy smiled back, kissing her forehead.

"I love you, Quinnie."

"I love you too, Mother." Judy smiled, brushing a piece of hair out of Quinn's face, before pulling the blankets back over her.

"Get some rest. We'll be back very soon." Judy murmured softly, moving out of Quinn's room and closing the door. She moved down the stairs, meeting her husband at the door. He nodded at her curtly, and she followed him out the door, head bowed slightly. He led her to the stables, where a few of the stable hands were waiting with horses at the ready. Russell handed their bags to Sam, who quickly tied them to the baggage horse, running his hand over her mane and slipping her a sugar cube when no one was looking.

"None of you are to enter the house." Russell said coldly, staring at each of the stable hands individually. Sam had to duck his head to hide his amused smile. The stable hands all murmured their agreement, and soon Judy was being helped onto a horse, and Russell onto his. The stable hands waited patiently, watching as the three horses trotted off, and when they were out of sight, all relaxed.

"I hope he falls into mud." One of them muttered, and after a round of laughter, they returned to their work, still chuckling at the thought of Russell Fabray falling off his horse.

Meanwhile, the preparations for the ball were in full swing at the Hummel castle, seeing as the ball was only three days away. There was food to be cooked, decorations to be made, orchestrations to be prepared, and everyone in the castle was focused and working. Well, all but one.

"Finn?" Kurt said, poking his head into the doorway of the ballroom. He found his brother leaning against one of the large windows, staring out towards the forest. When he heard his brother speak, Finn jumped, turning around and giving his younger brother a smile.

"Sorry, I was just…"

"Thinking. I know. You've been 'thinking' since yesterday. What has gotten into you?" Kurt asked, moving closer. Finn shrugged, running his fingers through his hair.

"Hey, Kurt, can I tell you something?" Kurt's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing, letting his brother know that he could. Finn glanced around as if he was afraid of someone eavesdropping, and Kurt resisted the urge to fondly roll his eyes. "I saw this girl yesterday, while I was out. She lived in this house near the forests, and she was singing, and she was beautiful, Kurt." Finn said, a smile spreading over his lips as he spoke. "I can't get her out of my head. You should have seen her, she had these eyes, they were like, hypnotic," He said softly, and Kurt pressed his lips together, not really sure if now was the time to inform his brother that he probably would not have been interested in this girl. Or any, if he were to be honest.

"Maybe she'll come to the ball?" Kurt suggested, putting a hand on his brother's arm. "Everyone in the kingdom is invited." He pointed out, and Finn perked up at the thought.

"You think so?" He asked, looking every bit like a puppy dog. Kurt let out a soft chuckle, nodding.

"I'm sure she will. Everyone in the kingdom is coming. She'll probably be there, and then you'll be reunited with your mystery girl." Finn smiled widely, obviously pleased at the thought, and Kurt smiled, proud with himself for placating his brother. "Now come on, Mother wants us to approve the menu."

"As long as that weird cold soup isn't on there, I'll like it."

"Gazpacho."

"Bless you."

Quinn sat at her vanity, brushing her hair out, humming softly to herself the song she had been singing yesterday when the prince had seen her. At the thought of the handsome boy, her lips curled up into a dreamy smile, and she closed her eyes for an instant, daydreaming about what it would be like to actually go to the ball, and dance with the prince, and for a second, she allowed herself to think about what it would be like to be a princess, a crown on her head, wearing beautiful dresses and shoes and having the ability to do whatever she felt like, because she was a princess and no one told a princess what to do. Sighing, she let the dream dissipate, not wanting to get her hopes up. She wasn't even sure if she was going to the ball, let alone even seeing the prince again. For all she knew, he was already betrothed to some girl, someone who was tiny, and brunette, with a proud attitude and a mouth to back it up. Quinn shook her head slightly, staring at herself in the mirror. You're being ridiculous, she thought, standing up and moving to her closet, grabbing a yellow cotton dress and changing into it, glancing out the window and pursing her lips. She hadn't seen Sam all day, which was odd. Normally he was in her room in the morning, and it was already mid-afternoon.

Perhaps he has more work to do today, she thought, moving out of her room and down the stairs to the kitchen, fixing herself something to eat, singing while she did so. She found it often passed the time to fill the empty space of her home with notes, loud ones and soft ones, long ones and short ones, happy ones and sad ones, notes that filled the space her parents left behind. "Perhaps getting a warbler isn't such a bad idea," she mused out loud. "Having a singing partner couldn't hurt."

Quinn filled her time with cleaning, cooking, knitting, sketching, singing, even painting at one point, attempting to recreate the picture of the warbler from the book onto a canvas. She did everything one could do in a house without stepping foot outside of it, and finally, nighttime came, and she collapsed onto her bed, fully prepared to sleep. That was, until she heard a rapping at her window. She jumped up quickly, heart pounding, thoughts of robbers and murderers and vagabonds filling her head. When the blonde saw it was only Sam, she was filled with the feeling of relief and the overwhelming urge to hit him for startling her like that. She opened her window, poking her head out.

"Hey there," Sam called, grinning widely. He held his hands behind his back, as if he were hiding something from her.

"Where have you been all day?" She called back, shifting her head to attempt to see what he was holding to no avail.

"Out. I got you a present." He replied, his grin growing wider. Quinn frowned.

"Why?"

"Your birthday's in two days, Quinn. I wasn't just going to give you nothing."

"But Sam-"

"My only request is that you come get it yourself." Sam said, looking up at her. Quinn felt her heart freeze, and she immediately began to shake her head as instinct. She couldn't go outside. She wasn't allowed. It had always been that way, and Sam knew that, he knew that, so why he kept pushing the issue Quinn didn't know. But she was torn. She wanted to leave, every fiber of her body was yearning to find what was outside the walls of her home, the home that had been so large at first but now felt more like a cage, the home that was too small for her dreams.

"Sam," she said softly, biting down on her bottom lip, uncertainty written all over her face. Sam said nothing, merely pulling the gift out from behind him. Quinn let out a soft gasp, leaning forward to get a better glimpse of it. It was a dress, one that shimmered in the soft moonlight, a light and pleasant blue, sparkling and soft and rich, one that obviously was expensive. Suddenly Quinn felt a twinge of guilt in her stomach. He had obviously spent money on the dress, a lot of money, and if Quinn refused it, she would be acting so rude…

"Please, Quinn?" Sam asked, holding up the dress higher. She bit her lip again, her glance moving between the dress to the ladder that he always used to get in her window, and suddenly, the prince's face was in her vision, handsome and inviting, and the image of freedom danced in front of her, and before she knew it, she was opening her window more, letting her feet dangle out of it. Her heart was pounding and the only thing she could hear was the blood rushing through her ears, and she cast one last glance behind her, at her room, the house that had held her safe yet captive for the past sixteen years, and then, she was climbing, down, and down, and suddenly – there was a strange sensation underneath her bare foot. She stepped off the ladder, staring down at the green underneath her. Grass. It was soft, and she had the sudden urge to lay down and let herself sleep in it, roll around in it, feel it, and before she knew it she was kneeling, her hands running through, and her vision was blurry because she was crying, but she wasn't crying because she was upset, it was because she was happy, blissful, beautifully ecstatic, because she was outside. Outside.

"I'm free," she whispered, relishing the way the words tasted on her tongue. "I'm free!" She exclaimed, letting out a laugh, standing up and spinning around, coming to a stop in front of Sam, who was grinning right back.

"You're free." He said softly, and she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. She knew she was crushing the dress between them, but she didn't care, she didn't care about anything much right now except for the feeling of the cool night air on her skin, the salty tears on her cheek, the boy she was hugging, and her freedom that had finally, finally, come.

"Come on. I want you to try it on." Sam said, pulling away from the hug and holding out the dress again. Quinn reached forward, fingering the material. It was delicate, soft to the touch, satin and net, a beautiful pale blue. She glanced up at him, and he smiled, gesturing towards the front door. Quinn grinned widely, moving towards the door, spinning once more before reaching for the handle. She stared at it, her smile fading. There was a sudden rush of fear, and it was as if sixteen years of imprisonment was staring her in the face. There was no rational reason why the blonde couldn't take the step forward and open the door, but there she was. There was a part of her that feared if she opened the door, her father would be waiting behind the door with a disappointed expression and a lifetime of confinement.

"You're not trapped anymore." Sam's voice came from behind her, soft and coaxing. "We'll come right back out, I promise." Quinn turned, and he gave her a soft smile, nodding encouragingly. She nodded, turning the handle slowly, stepping inside. There was no sign of her father, and with a slight smile, Quinn moved out of the doorway, allowing Sam to come inside.

"Never been in here through the front before," He muttered, and she laughed, half out of amusement at his joke and half out of relief and pure joy.

"Come on, we can go to my parents room." Quinn said, reaching for his hand.

"Why there?" Sam asked, letting her lead him up the stairs. She stood on the top stair, turning to look at him.

"You've got to have a suit, don't you?" She pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "I've read about a lot of balls, and the boys are always wearing suits. You can't go in that." She said, gesturing with her free hand to the outfit Sam was currently wearing. He glanced down, taking in the worn green vest and the blue undershirt, covered in horsehair and burrs.

"Yeah, I guess not." He mumbled, and she laughed quietly, tugging him up the stairs and into her parents' room. She hadn't been in here when her parents weren't home, as she usually had no need to. It was a spacious room that occupied most of the second floor, with a large window looking out towards the village, as opposed to the forest view Quinn's window gave her. The large closet on the right side of the room held most of Russell's clothes, and Quinn let go of Sam's hand, walking over and throwing the doors open.

"I know he's got one in the back," she muttered, stepping into the closet and pushing her way past piles of clothes, reaching towards the back and finding a crisp black suit, grinning triumphantly as she emerged with it and a white dress shirt.

"Try it on. It might be a little big, but we can work around that. I'll go in there and try this, alright?" Quinn said, laying the suit next to Sam and reaching for the dress. Sam handed it to her gently, grinning widely.

"It's going to look great." He said, waiting until she was securely in the closet and out of his line of sight before untying the vest, sliding it off along with the blue undershirt. Not really caring where they landed, he tossed them off to the side, picking up the dress shirt and carefully unbuttoning the little white buttons. If Russell knew what I was doing right now, he'd probably kill me. Sam thought with a hint of smugness. He'll never find out. He shrugged the shirt on, reveling in the feeling of the softness of the shirt against his skin, admiring the feeling for a few quick moments before buttoning it up, checking its length. The sleeves were a bit long, but he could easily roll them up. After making sure Quinn was securely in the closet, he changed into the dress pants, staring down at his legs. The black material flowed over his feet, and he sighed, reaching down and rolling those up as well. It will do. He thought, reaching for the jacket.

"So where did you get this, anyway?" Quinn's voice came floating out from behind the clothes.

"There's a woman in town, a seamstress. Her name is Shannon, she's really good at it. Practically a beast, you know…" Sam trailed off as he looked up, his eyes landing on Quinn as she stepped out of the closet, head ducked down as she looked at the dress. She looked, to put it simply, stunning. Her loose blonde curls spilled over her shoulders, and the dress hugged her skin, the blue of the dress bringing out the green in her eyes. Her hands played with the fabric of the skirt nervously.

"How do I look?" She asked quietly, looking up at Sam through her lashes.

"Beautiful." He whispered honestly, reaching out for her hand. "No prince will be able to deny you." Quinn smiled shyly, allowing Sam to spin her around, feeling the fabric of the dress against her skin, closing her eyes and allowing herself to imagine that for a moment, she was dancing with the prince, in a ballroom, completely and utterly free. When she opened her eyes, she threw her arms around Sam's neck, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered into his skin, and he chuckled, hugging her back.

"You're welcome." He murmured into her hair, kissing the top of her head before pulling back. She took a step back, eyeing him carefully, pursing her lips.

"It's a bit big, I know…" Sam started, lifting up his arms and watching as the extra fabric draped over his hands. Quinn giggled, shaking her head.

"We can fix it. It's perfect." She said, a wide smile appearing on her face. "This is really happening." She whispered, everything hitting her. She was about to leave the confines of her house, escape her expansive prison, what she had been wishing and waiting and dreaming and begging for, she was about to walk out of the door with no fear of being caught, with nothing but a dream in her heart and a smile on her face and her best friend by her side, to go to a ball, to find a prince, to discover what it was like to actually live.

"Quinn, don't cry," Sam said quickly, reaching out and wiping away a tear with his thumb. Quinn let out a laugh, reaching up and touching her cheeks, discovering that they were in fact covered in tears.

"I promise I'm not upset, Sam," she said softly, bringing her other hand up to touch his hand. "I just can't wait."

After changing back into her plain yellow dress, the cotton against her skin a stark contrast from the silk of the dress, Quinn slipped on her pair of most comfortable shoes and began to walk around the house, gathering things she thought they might need and putting them in the bag Sam was carrying. Finally, she stood in the doorway, taking a second to look at the house that had become a cage. Take these broken wings and learn to fly, she sang softly, before turning, putting one hand on the doorknob and pushing, walking out of confinement and into freedom.

"We're going to have to ride horses. It's the quickest way to get into town." Sam said, slinging the bag over his shoulders and leading her towards the stable. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him, disbelief all over her face. He let out a loud laugh, slinging his arm around her shoulders and leading her towards the horses.

"It's easy, I promise." Sam reassured her, stopping in front of the stable doors and handing her the bag. "Wait here, okay?" He said, grabbing a sugar cube from a bowl on the shelf inside the door, moving down to the last stall, opening the door and greeting the dark brown horse with a soft hello, offering up the sugar cube and petting her nose, quietly slipping the blanket and saddle onto the back of the horse, tying up the reigns and leading the horse out to Quinn.

"Her name is Cocoa." He said, grabbing Quinn's hand. "Just pet her softly, right here, okay?" He said, motioning towards the bridge of the horse's nose. Warily, Quinn lifted her hand, gently placing it on the soft fur, slowly stroking it and smiling when the horse didn't buck or kick.

"Now what?" Quinn asked, looking over at Sam. He blinked before sighing, taking the bag from her and moving to the side of the horse, slinging it over and tying it securely with rope he had grabbed from the stall. He motioned for Quinn to join him, and she moved to his side, staring up at the horse.

"Now you get on."

"Get on…that?" She asked, looking between him and the saddle as if he had just fallen and hit his head. "How do you suggest I do that?" He chuckled.

"I forgot you're new to this. Do you want me to go first?" Sam asked, and she nodded slowly. With an ease that came from years of working around horses, he lifted himself up onto the horse in one graceful swoop, grinning triumphantly down at her. Reaching out with his hand, he said, "Come on up."

"I don't think so." Quinn said, shaking her head and stepping away from the horse.

"You want to get to the ball before your parents show up? Get on the horse." Sam said, putting his hand out again. Quinn shook her head again, blonde curls spinning everywhere and with a sigh, Sam leapt off the horse.

"You are getting on the horse, Quinn."

"You can't tell me what to do!"

"Oh, so now we're going to play the rich girl card? Get on the horse." Sam said, folding his arms across his chest. Quinn mimicked him, even going so far as to raise her head and put her nose towards the air. Rolling his eyes, Sam took his chance and dashed forward, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up. She immediately started shrieking.

"Put me down! Samuel Evans, if you care to survive another day you will put me down! I refuse to get on that beast!" Sam just chuckled, rolling his eyes and easily lifting Quinn up, setting her down on the horse and leaping up behind her, putting his arms underneath hers and grabbing the reigns.

"You are such a princess, Quinn." He snorted, snapping the reigns against the horse. The chocolate mare whinnied and began trotting forward, and Quinn was too frightened to retort with anything wittier than a whimpered, "Shut up." Sam chuckled, shaking his head one last time as they rode away from the Fabray residence, moving into town.

Two hours and one bumpy horse ride later, the two blondes had arrived into the center of town. Considering it was late in the night, most places had closed their doors for the night, and even the main market street was quiet, the only noise the occasional excited shout from a pub or an alley cat crashing into an empty pail. Sam slipped off the horse, gently grabbing the reigns and leading it down the street, leaving Quinn to clutch to the horse on her own. Finally, they came across an inn called "Em's", and were greeted by a particularly neurotic red-headed woman. She ushered them to their rooms, then immediately resumed her scrubbing of every doorknob in the inn. Exhausted, Sam and Quinn fell into their separate beds, falling asleep before their heads hit the pillow.

The next morning, Quinn awoke, sitting straight up, clutching at the sheets, before remembering where she was. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed, sinking against the pillow again. She smiled up at the ceiling, wondering what her father would think if he could see her now. Her smile faded as she realized she didn't really want him to see her right now, she wanted her adventure to last a little bit longer. A loud snore from beside her startled her, and she looked over quickly, finding Sam laying on his bed, limbs splayed, sheets in a twist, mouth open and a tiny line of drool coming out of the side of his mouth. She stifled a laugh, slipping out of the bed and finding her shoes, putting them on before quietly moving out of the room, so as not to disturb him.

After going to the bathroom to freshen up, Quinn walked down the stairs of the inn, finding herself in the main dining room. It was filled with people, mostly large, older men, who were eating while the redheaded woman from the night before served them food, wiping her hands on her apron between each table. When Quinn entered the room, they all turned to look at her. Her eyes widened slightly, and one of the men stood up, walking towards her.

"What's your name, girl?" He growled. His presence was overbearing, for he was a large man, and with the addition of the dirty furs that lined his shoulders and the scuffed leather that was his clothes, he seemed ten times larger.

"Quinn." She responded, looking straight at him. Perhaps, she thought, if she was brave enough, he would go away.

"What are you doing in a place like this?"

"I'm going to the ball." Quinn said, hoping her voice didn't give away how she felt about how close he was to her, or the rancid stench of his breath.

"All by yourself?" The man asked, a curling sneer appearing on his face, revealing teeth that needed desperate dental help.

"No, she's going with me." Quinn and the man turned to find Sam coming down the stairs, a venomous glare in his eyes, directed at the large man. In normal situations, Quinn would have laughed at the expression on Sam's face, so deathly serious, but never before in her life had she been so relieved to see him.

"Sorry, lad, didn't know she was yours," the man said, holding up his hands and backing off.

"Might care to ask next time," Sam growled, putting an arm protectively around Quinn's waist and moving so he was standing slightly in front of her. When the man had returned to his table, Sam leaned his head down so he was whispering directly into Quinn's ear.

"What do you think you're doing? You could have gotten yourself seriously hurt!" He hissed, and she looked up at him with guilt in her eyes.

"I didn't know!"

"Things are a lot different out here," he said, his tone becoming gentler. "I forgot you don't know. Just, don't leave my side, okay? I don't want you getting hurt."

After eating breakfast in their room, Sam and Quinn thanked the redheaded woman and Quinn paid her with a coin from her pocket, letting her know they would stay another night or two. They went out to the front of the inn, and then Sam turned to Quinn.

"We've got a whole day to spare, Q. What do you want to do?" The blonde pursed her lips in thought, glancing around as the people of the village went about their business. Most were marketmen, those who worked and bartered and made their living out of the street lined with kiosks filled with items that were all shades of delicious, delectable and delightful. Quinn's eyes lit up as the idea sparked in her mind, and she turned to her friend quickly.

"Can we go to a market? Oh, Sam, I've always wanted to go to one, I read about them all the time but I've never seen one in pictures even, please?" She pleaded, grasping his arm and looking from him to the villagers who walked past. Sam raised his eyebrows, and his lips quirked at the girl's awe at such simple things as a marketplace. But, he supposed, it made sense. She had lived her life in confinement with nothing but fancy items and empty rooms to keep her company (aside from himself, of course) so little things that others took for granted, such as marketplaces, were sure to pique her curiosity. He found himself nodding, and Quinn let out an excited giggle, grabbing his wrist and dragging him down the street.

They spent the rest of the morning wandering down aisle after aisle; Sam watching as Quinn poked and prodded everything she came across. Right before noon, Sam was busy bartering with a man to buy them lunch. Quinn, bored with the negotiations, wandered to an apple seller a few feet away. The woman behind the stand had short blonde hair and a blood-curdling sneer, snapping rude and witty remarks to anyone who passed. Quinn was oblivious to the woman's cruel stare, and picked up an apple, smiling before taking a bite. Instantaneously, a horrified shout came from the woman, and a terrified shriek came from Quinn. Sam whirled around to find Quinn leaning just out of reach of the woman's bony hand. With a quick apology to the man he was speaking to, the blonde ran towards his friend, grabbing her hand and tugging her along the street. From behind them, the woman shouted something about buying them a kitten and then punching them in the face, which only caused them to run a little faster.

"Don't touch anything without me, okay?" Sam asked once they were a safe distance away. Quinn nodded, too breathless to speak. After another hour or so of exploring, Sam led Quinn back towards the inn. She looked up at him, a question in her eyes, and he grinned.

"You don't want to be late for the ball, do you?" He asked, and her face lit up. Soon, she was tugging him down the street, and he let her, laughing all the while. They arrived at the inn in record time, and soon, Quinn was occupying the bathroom while Sam stumbled with the suit in the bedroom.

In the Hummel castle, Kurt had managed to put the finishing touches on his suit, tugging at the tails of his coat and adjusting his tie. Smoothing his hair down once more, Kurt gave himself a satisfied smile. He caught sight of his brother in the mirror, struggling to knot his own tie, and his smile turned sympathetic, turning and walking over to him.

"You are absolutely hopeless." He murmured affectionately, swatting Finn's hands away and tying it himself. Finn gave him a sheepish smile.

"Thanks, little bro."

"Don't call me that." Kurt said, casting him a glance before straightening his tie. Taking a step back, Kurt examined his brother with a sharp eye. Smiling with approval, he looked up at Finn. "Your mystery girl will be unable to resist you." Finn grinned, cheeks tinting pink at merely the thought of the beautiful blonde girl.

"I'm sure you'll find a girl who's just as pretty, Kurt." Finn offered with a smile. Kurt looked past his brother, pulling a smile on that was sure to look more like a grimace. He knew that he would have to tell his brother the truth he had been suspecting sooner or later, but the grin that reminded him of a loyal dog tugged on his heart.

"Finn…" Kurt began softly. Finn perked up, looking at him with an innocent smile. Kurt opened his mouth to continue speaking, but just then, a footman knocked on the door. The two brothers jumped, and turned, all thoughts of possible confessions silenced.

"Sires? The queen has requested your presence."

"Thank you." Kurt replied quietly. The footman bowed and left, and Kurt turned to Finn, smiles once more.

"Shall we?" The shorter prince asked, and Finn grinned crookedly.

"We shall."

At that same moment, Quinn slipped on her satin shoes, glancing at herself one last time in the tiny mirror in the inn bathroom, before biting her lip and moving into the room she shared with Sam. He looked up from buttoning his buttons and a wide grin spread over his lips.

"You look beautiful." He murmured, and she smiled bashfully, stepping closer to him and laughing.

"Let me help," she said, closing up the last few buttons and adjusting his lapel. "Handsome," she said approvingly, grinning at him. He returned her grin with a matching one of his own, reaching forward and hugging her tightly.

"Thank you." He whispered. Quinn let out a quiet laugh.

"Thank you." She replied softly. He smiled into her hair, letting go and putting his hand on her forearm.

"I'm sure Prince Finn will have trouble staying away from you." He said with a wink, and Quinn giggled, flushing at the memory of the handsome brunette.

"I'm sure there will be a handsome dignitary there just waiting to sweep you off your feet." Quinn teased gently. Sam chuckled, ducking his head down. There was a knock on the door, and they both turned their heads towards it. The innkeeper poked her head through the doorway with a soft smile.

"Your horse is ready." She said kindly, and Sam smiled brightly at Quinn.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

Soon, Sam was helping Quinn down off the horse just as Finn was helping Kurt up to the throne platform. Quinn took Sam's arm, and Finn sat down in his throne, on the right hand of his father, who smiled at him reassuringly. Finn returned the smile, a bit nervous, eyes flickering towards the staircase, looking for any sign of his mystery girl. Sam held out the invitation to the guards in front of the expansive entrance, and soon, they were being lined up to walk into the ball. Quinn felt nervous, anxious, and gripped onto Sam's arm as if letting go meant death. Sam gave her a reassuring squeeze, and soon, the pair were at the top of the staircase, their names were being announced, and Quinn looked around, searching for a pair of eyes that were so familiar and yet so unknown. And then, she found them.

"Kurt," Finn whispered, transfixed on the girl standing at the top of the staircase. "That's her."