Nicole stood on the top step of a short staircase inside the room. She rubbed her arms against the sudden cold, marveling at the breath pluming in front of her face and the state of the room.

Francis unleashed a string of creative swears, the likes of which Nicole had never heard before and probably wouldn’t again.

Winterwonderland had not been an exaggeration.

A thick blanket of snow—no, it couldn’t be—of something white and fluffy coated the ground. It dusted the tops of the giant silver armchairs, filled the blackened fireplace, clung to the ivory wall fixtures, and stuck to the ice-blue frames of landscaped portraits. In the center of the room, a silver light post’s flame flickered in the cold and lit up as much as it could, which wasn’t much. An envelope had been tied to it with ribbon.

“I’ve never seen snow before. That’s not real, right?” Nicole shivered, teeth already chattering. Overhead, vents blew frigid air into the room, whooshing in earnest. She stood closer to Francis, drawn to him like a heat-seeking missile. “The amount of water damage would be ridiculous.”

Francis loped down the three steps, dropping into a crouch. He grabbed a handful of the stuff. “It’s not. It’s some kind of clumping powder. It’s not even cold.” He rubbed his fingers against his palm to make it crumble and fall. “I think she turned the AC down to subzero for effect.”

Nicole joined him, trying to step lightly until she was sure it would support her weight. She pressed some of it between her fingers. Grainy like sand, but also soft like powder.

Neither of them heard the door when it closed.

Francis trudged to the light post, fake snow crunching underneath his shoes. He broke the wax seal on the envelope, unfolding it quickly.

Find the arctic fox key hidden beneath the snow.

Use your hands and feet, you can even use your toes.

But keep in mind that warm blood isn’t terribly fond of the cold.

Every three minutes the temperature will drop, along with more snow.

Press BEGIN when you are ready.

“Instead of needle in a haystack, it’s key in a snow patch,” Nicole joked, feeling instantly disappointed in herself. “I’m cold. My brain has clearly stopped working already.”

Francis laughed anyway. “The room isn’t that big—if we start on opposite ends, we can go from side to side until we meet in the middle.” He looked up, making her do the same. Fine black netting covered the ceiling. It bulged with the fake snow waiting to be dropped on them. “We need to be quick, though.”

A BEGIN button pulsed on their tablet screens.

“Ooh, do you think we have to synchronize our tablets like Mission: Impossible?” Nicole asked with fake excitement.