The key was dusty, but had a vague shine to it.

            "Today, we mourn the passing of Rachel Louise Quinton, a dear friend," the lawyer unlocked the box with agonizingly slow speed. "Inside this chest are her final wishes."

            Aunt Rachel always had a flair for the dramatic, and her will was no different. Inside the box was a single, creamy envelope sealed with bright red wax. The lawyer opened the letter with the same frustrating pace, finally reading it aloud.

            "I do not have such confidence in my family to assume that they are not here for mercenary reasons," the lawyer continued reading Aunt Rachel's letter. "I've warned you all that giving you Opulent Estates would be like gifting you an elephant, it is far better suited to become a museum."

            Mr. William Livingstone sat up at the mention of a museum, he'd attended every one of Aunt Rachel's strange dinner parties in the hopes that Opulent Estates would be

            "My dear friends and family," the letter began. "If you are reading this, I am dead. Death is not as frightening as it draws nearer as you can imagine, my only concern is for the welfare of my darling Charlotte. She is to go to my grandniece Kathleen Quinton, who promised me that she would look after her so many years ago."

            Everyone paused to look at me and I shrunk down in my seat. I'd promised her I'd his. He was the young curator of the Art Museum in the city and had high hopes of turning Opulent Estates into a living history museum.

            "The fate of Opulent Estates is within my revised will," the lawyer's voice got weak as he read the letter, his client hadn't consulted him. "Opulent Estates final dinner party shall be a masquerade, and a hunt for my last will and testament. If the will is not found, then it shall be sold and the money given to my late husband's scholarship fund, as stated in my previous will. My warmest regards, Rachel Louise Quinton."

            The room exploded into whispers. The lawyer looked furious, the family sharing his sentiments as the whispers escalated. Aunt Elizabeth looked downright murderous and was arguing with Grandpa Barton over the catering.

            Aunt Rachel would've reveled in the chaos.

***

            Mr. Livingstone and Aunt Elizabeth showed up bearing the disgruntled kitty the next morning. "Kathleen?"

            "Yes?" I took Charlotte from them and started to step back inside but Aunt Elizabeth blocked the door.

            "We'd like to speak to you," Aunt Elizabeth's sugary smile was foreboding. "I picked up Rachel's Fluffy!"

            "I can see that," I opened the door a little wider and let them in without commenting on Charlotte's name change. "Help yourself."

            Mr. Livingstone apologized and grabbed an orange from my fruit basket. He managed to peel it in one long peel while I shredded my orange peel. Aunt Elizabeth started going through my fridge for a kiwi.

            I opened Charlotte's crate and waited for them to start talking, which never took Aunt Elizabeth too long.

            "I'm here about the masquerade," Aunt Elizabeth started. "We think that it wouldn't be fair to the rest of the contestants if you had special clues about the will."
            "Well, I think that the lawyer would be a better person to talk to," Charlotte refused to leave her crate, so I went to the kitchen to open a can of wet cat food. "I don't know anything."

            "The lawyer doesn't know anything," she sighed and started cutting open her kiwi. "I spoke to him after the funeral and he gave me Fluffy."

            "Charlotte," Mr. Livingstone corrected Aunt Elizabeth, then turning and sticking out his hand for me to shake. "I'm Will."

            "Why are you here, Will?" I left Charlotte alone with her food. "I don't know anything about the will, the masquerade, or your museum."

            "Oh, I'm here to express my condolences," he flashed a quick, sad smile. "I couldn't find you at the funeral. I know you and Aunt Rachel were close."

            I'd seen Will at Aunt Rachel's dinner parties a few times, always from across the room. Aunt Rachel hadn't ever bothered to introduce us and I'd always viewed him as a simpering, toadying fool after Aunt Rachel's house.

            Aunt Elizabeth watched with distinct dissatisfaction, like two people getting along made her angry. "We'll see you at the masquerade, then, Kathleen!"

            "Sure thing!" I wanted to talk more with Will, but Aunt Elizabeth was insistent that he come with her. I watched her through the windows, she had the same steely look she'd worn at the funeral. Sharp determination mixed with a healthy mix of disregard for others.

***

            Charlotte didn't think too much of my masquerade gown. She yowled her displeasure when I told her I was leaving and I soon relented.

            "If you don't leave the crate, you can come," I decided. It was the last hurrah, and it was Charlotte's home.

            "Miss Quinton," the dreaded lawyer was there, greeting the guests as they arrived. "What a lovely gown. Please, come in and situate yourself. I believe your mother and Mr. Livingstone have already arrived."

            "Thank you, mister..."

            "Mr. Hagan, ma'am, at your service," he bowed and moved on to Aunt Elizabeth, who'd chosen expensive over tasteful in her gown and husband. Uncle Billy had decided to make a rare appearance, he was often too busy with work to come to birthday parties, reunions, weddings, funerals, or masquerades.

            Once Aunt Elizabeth spotted me, her eyes narrowed and I ducked into Opulent Estate's famous Moonlit Garden. Aunt Rachel had a green thumb and an assistant to ensure that the Moonlit Garden was always mystical and ethereal. She had planted it with light blue flowers and vines to mimic a crumbling courtyard. Unlike most gardens, she preferred her visitors to come by night.

            "I spent the summers with Aunt Rachel," I announced to Will, who was hiding behind a pillar. "My mother had to go on tour with her band, so I stayed here. She told me stories and I helped her with the chores."
            "You know the story of the estate?" he stepped out of the shadows and joined me. "Your Aunt Rachel always said that she wanted museums to tell stories of the dead and she wasn't dead yet."

            I opened my mouth to tell him of how Opulent Estates had fallen into Aunt Rachel's hands, but the violins started up inside and I jumped away from Will. The windows were cracked, allowing a strain of music to slip through to the Moonlit Garden and Will offered his hand.

            He started a slow waltz to the music and I told him the story. "Opulent Estates wasn't built by the Quintons."

            He spun me. "I knew that bit, it was built by an aristocratic family fleeing France. But how did it come by Rachel?"

            "The family passed it down for many generations," I continued on with my story, ignoring his protests. "Until they couldn't afford it anymore and decided to flee in the night with their possessions. The bank reclaimed it and it was given as a wedding present to the bank president's daughter, Felicity Reynolds."

            Will stayed quiet this time, letting me talk, but listening with enraptured attention.

            "Felicity's husband, Wilbur, was a proud man who enjoyed excess and renamed the estate. Felicity wasn't and she spent more time in the Garden, growing it into the ethereal moonlight that we see. Felicity was also sickly, and had a good friend in Aunt Rachel, so she stayed happy and strong. But Aunt Rachel met Uncle Tommy and didn't have as much time for Felicity, so she started a diary."

            Will's eyes turned thoughtful. "Where did she keep her diaries?"

            "I'm getting there," I shot him an annoyed look and he dipped me for good measure. "She wrote in them all day every day, trying to keep her sanity. While Wilbur did like excess, he didn't like it when Felicity spent any of it. So she recorded every dream she ever had in her diaries before she died at the ripe old age of twenty five."

            To his credit, Will looked genuinely saddened at Felicity's death.

            "Wilbur went through her garden when she died, and found her diaries locked in a chest. He read them, and gave Opulent Estates as a wedding-present to Aunt Rachel and Uncle Tommy. Wilbur gave Aunt Rachel the diaries and then took a job overseas, never to be heard from again."

            "What happened to Wilbur Reynolds?" Will fumbled the steps, but righted himself.

            "He died a few years ago, I think, he'd remarried," I shrugged. "Anyway, the masquerades and dinner parties were all Felicity's ideas. As far as Aunt Rachel was concerned, Felicity's diaries were law and she ran the estate exactly how Felicity would've wanted it to be run. She wanted to give away Opulent Estates as a wedding-present, like Felicity wanted, but..."

            "Where was the chest buried?" Will stopped dancing abruptly and started to look for a shovel. "Maybe the will is inside!"

            I took the shovel from him. "Don't you remember the funeral?"

            His eyes widened. "The chest with the letter inside! If the chest had the letter inside, then where are the diaries?"

            "With the will!" I pondered it for a second. "I know where to start."

            "Wait a second," Will plucked a flower from the Garden and threaded it through the edges of my masquerade mask. "There, now you look perfect."

            "Ready to go traipsing around an abandoned estate?" I offered, pulling the hem of my skirts off of the ground, turning away so he wouldn't see my blush.

            Will offered his arm silently in response, unfazed, but the tinkling dinner bell sounded and our mission had to be postponed.

            He escorted me into the dining hall anyway, an overdramatic hall that was lit with dripping candles and had musicians playing brooding music in the background. I waved hello to the Northview String Quartet, who had long since retired but still did Aunt Rachel's dinner parties. When they played, their faces lit up with joy, but not tonight. They played their usual pieces, but slower, with remembrance of my aunt.

            "What happened to your Uncle Tommy?" Will leaned over and whispered in my ear. He pulled out my chair and sat next to me, causing my mother's eyebrows to shoot upwards.

            "He was in an accident twenty years ago," I spotted Sonia battling with Aunt Elizabeth over forks. "If you'll excuse me."

            I stood up to help Sonia. "You go sit down and eat, I'll take care of this. Where are the servers and kitchen staff?"

            "The lawyer cancelled them," she snorted with distaste. "I'm the gardener, not the server."

            "I'll take care of this, thank you Sonia," Sonia had been around since Uncle Tommy died, a constant presence of calm when compared to my chaos loving aunt. "Sonia, do you know where Charlotte's food is? I brought her tonight, left her in the kitchen in her crate."

            "Ah, yes," she gestured to the musicians and they spoke in hushed whispers. "Just for tonight, the Quartet will serve. At least the lawyer man brought food, I am the gardener, not the chef!"

            We walked through the labyrinth of Opulent Estates out to my car, where Charlotte was not happy I'd locked her inside the crate.

            Sonia inspected the windows while I got Charlotte out. "Don't forget to close the windows."

            "We can leave Charlotte in the kitchen while the family plays find-the-will," I grumbled. "Do you have any idea where it is?"

            "You know Rachel," she evaded and I nodded. "At dinner they will make the announcement."

            "Do you know where Felicity's diaries are?" I asked casually and Sonia shrugged.

            "You and Will have the advantage here," she sighed. "More so since you've teamed up!"

            "You are worse than my mother," I hid behind Charlotte's cat carrier. "She gave me the look because he pulled out my chair."

            "Well, I'm giving you the look because of your romantic waltz in the Garden," Sonia laughed and took Charlotte from me. "You go and have fun. Maybe Rachel's matchmaking skills will prevail from beyond the grave."

            I rolled my eyes, but Sonia continued. "Opulent Estates is cursed, you know. It must be a wedding-present."

            "We say that because it hasn't ever been anything else," Charlotte yowled and I ignored her. "Not all mansions are cursed."

            "Opulent Estates is," Sonia replied with absolute certainty. "Now, you hurry back to dinner before Elizabeth corners poor Mr. Livingstone like she did at the funeral."

            "At the funeral?" I turned back around. "Did Aunt Rachel see Aunt Elizabeth before she passed?"

            "Elizabeth visited about a week before Rachel passed away," Sonia shuffled her feet. "Rachel didn't want to tell you, what with finals coming up, and she had been close to Elizabeth when they were younger..."

            "You don't need to explain, Sonia," my mind flashed through the possibilities. "I'm sure Aunt Rachel had her reasons."

***

            I didn't look at Will throughout dinner until Mr. Hagan stood, rapping his spoon on the side of his glass. "I have an announcement to make."

            The second violinist, Mr. Leonard came out of the kitchen bearing a silver dish with a cover. At this point, we'd usually eat dessert, but instead of a delicious fudge or chocolate cake, there was a white letter sealed with red wax.

            "My dear guests," he began, reading Aunt Rachel's letter aloud. "I'm sure all of you are furious with me for making you go through this charade. As stated previously, my will is within these walls. Sonia will supervise your game, and the sale of Opulent Estates if the will is not found. I have hidden clues throughout the estate, all of which directed at a single person. The clues are in letters much like the one my lawyer is reading to you right now. Each has a name on the outside of the envelope, if you find another's, give it to them. It is their goodbye as well as their clue. Your letter is in a place special to you, as all of you have been Opulent Estates guests at one time. You have until midnight. I love you all, Rachel Louise Quinton."

            The lawyer had barely finished saying Quinton when I bolted up the stairs. Every summer, I'd stayed in Felicity's old room, and I started going through every nook and cranny. I opened my desk, and sitting under my old diary, was a creamy envelope.

            I nearly cried. Aunt Rachel's seal was of a long vine and a hyacinth, one of her favorite flowers that grew in the Moonlit Garden.

            She apologized for leaving so soon, and for not letting me say goodbye. She had a hundred more things she wished she could tell me, and she promised that she had stashed more letters for me, for every milestone of my life in a box Sonia had, but this letter was my clue letter.

            One phrase, two words, to help guide me and the rest of the relatives to Aunt Rachel's final wishes. Yet they were frustratingly unhelpful.

            Felicity's diaries.

            Will darted into the room behind me. "We need to go! What's your clue?"

            "Unhelpful. Felicity's diaries. What's yours?"

            He smirked. "We need that shovel. Moonlit bench."

            Understanding dawned on me and I rushed out of the room into the Moonlit Garden. No one else had arrived, still searching for their letter. Will stripped off his jacket and started digging under the white bench.

            There used to be a chest there, Felicity hadn't tried to hide her diaries where Wilbur could find and read them. She hid them in her sanctuary.

            I dusted off the top of the bench and watched. "Where did you find your letter?"

            "Under my chair," he refused to meet my eyes, focusing entirely on his digging. "Where I always used to sit."

            "When you were schmoozing for a museum?" I teased him and he flinched.

            "Aunt Rachel was the one who recommended me to the Art Museum," he responded in a low voice. "The scholarship program was what allowed me to go to college."

            "Most of her scholarship recipients don't come to her dinner parties," he still didn't look at me. "Why did you?"

            "Most of her scholarship recipients aren't invited, don't get letters of recommendation, don't find jobs in their chosen field so quickly," he shrugged, still not looking at me.

            "The letter wasn't under your chair, was it?"

            The shovel clanked against something and Will smiled. "Here it is."

            We pulled out a metal lockbox as the doors of the Garden opened. "We have to leave."

            "I don't mind sharing-" I yanked Will out of the line of sight and behind an ornamental tree before standing to greet my esteemed Aunt Elizabeth.

            "Where's Mr. Livingstone?" she went straight to the point. "This game is rigged for your favor, and I demand you share what you've found with the rest of us!"

            The family echoed their agreement and I started to see the downsides of chaos. "What would Mr. Livingstone know? He's a schmoozer!"

            "How little you know," Aunt Elizabeth sneered. "He's the key to the puzzle, Rachel told me herself!"

            "Have you ever considered Aunt Rachel was yanking your chain?" I pretended to be vastly disappointed by Aunt Elizabeth and the Garden quieted. "I came out here when I got my clue, so let's pool clues and see whether we can glean any new information."

            "No need," Will stood up from behind me, holding up the lockbox. "We need to find the key."

            I glared at him, but my relatives started talking and sharing, all agreeing that the clues led to the box, but not to a key.

            "I think we still need to find the diaries," I whispered to Will. "What were you thinking?"

            "Why would you say that?" he clutched the box to his chest. "I'm not in your family by blood, but I think that I should be thought of as better than a schmoozer!"

            "To get them off your back!" I whispered back before adjusting my attention to the group. "Let's head back inside everyone, we can discuss this further. Maybe the lawyer or Sonia have some more ideas, it's not midnight yet!"

            They started back inside, lured by the idea of clues and the sounds of the Quartet tuning.

            Will sat down on the bench and I joined him after a pause. "I don't think you're a schmoozer. I think my aunt loved you very much to do all of that for you."

            "It doesn't matter," he stared at his hands, which were red from all the digging. "Why didn't your aunt introduce us, though? If I was so special to her, why didn't she introduce me to her surrogate granddaughter?"

            A quiet meow sounded through the Garden before I could answer. "Charlotte!"

            The kitty was growing increasingly interested in a statue of a weeping angel, sniffing and rubbing against the jeweled base that had a vague shine.

            "Charlotte, stop that!" I picked up Charlotte and Will started to inspect the base, prying out a small, silver key that had been dusted with catnip.

            Inside the lockbox, there were dozens of worn, leather bound diaries. I dug a little further, and inside the last diary a white creamy envelope bookmarked a page. I snatched it and broke the red wax seal.

            "I, Rachel Louise Quinton," my mouth went dry and Will started reading where I stopped.

            "Being of sound mind and body bequeath Opulent Estates to my grand niece, Kathleen Quinton, upon her wedding day," Will deflated but kept reading. "Until then, Opulent Estates is to be under the care of William Livingstone, to be turned into a living museum."

            He stopped reading and folded the will back inside the box. The soft tinkle of music from inside gave the Garden a dreamy atmosphere.

            "That's it?" I searched the box again, looking for another clue, that the will was a fake, or that there was some kind of mystery that needed to be solved. "That can't be all there is!"

            "That's it," Will confirmed in a whisper, flipping over the paper, looking for something more, like a secret map on the back of the Declaration of Independence.

            "But, why did she talk to Aunt Elizabeth? Why didn't we meet before? This can't be all there is!"

            "Kathleen," he whispered my name for the first time, hands finally stopping their search for anything else. "It's okay."

            "This is the furthest thing from okay!" I snapped back. "My aunt is..."

            I couldn't finish. Midnight was coming and we had the will, so we should go back inside and present it. But it felt like as long as the hunt lasted, Aunt Rachel was still alive.

            Will opened his arms and I hugged him for a long time, staring up at the sky, willing myself not to cry. But tears came anyway in a stormy rush of grief.

            "I lied," he started once I'd calmed, still holding me. "She put the letter under your chair."

"Why?" I didn't want to move, but Will stood up to sling his jacket around the both of us.

            "In Aunt Rachel's ideal universe, she wanted to give Opulent Estates to you and I,"

he waited for comprehension to strike. "But she got her leukemia diagnosis first."

            "I don't think her ideal universe sounds so bad," I mumbled, refusing to look at him.

He understood, though, squeezing me one last time before opening the lockbox again. "I don't think that diary is like the others."

The diary we'd pulled the will out of was nearly full, all from Aunt Rachel's diagnosis to the day before her death. The last entry was a letter to Will and I.

My darling Kathleen and Will,

What do I say? The minute I met you, Will, I recognized something about you that I've only ever seen in two people: my dear Tommy, and my sweet Kathleen. That's not to say that the reason that I've helped you is because I wanted my niece to get a date, mind you. You've got a good heart, a strong sense of integrity, and a determination to see it through. You've earned everything I've given you and more.

You're probably wondering why this letter is addressed to the both of you. Kathy, when Will saw you for the first time at the gala a few years ago, his jaw dropped and you frowned. You asked me why I invited him (very snootily I might add) and his jaw shot back up! I hope you both are reading this together, smiling as you wonder how my sense of matchmaking could be so perfect. But if it's just you, Kathy, then give Will a chance. Also, dearest Kathy, make sure Charlotte gets fed twice a day at eight and then at five. If she doesn't she will destroy your plants and couch.

            I'm not going to spend my last words worrying about a match, even one I'm as sure of as this one. The nature of humanity is to love and yearn to be loved, and I want you both to know I've loved you so much with the time I've been given. I hope you smiled at least once through this game, and I hope you will always remember me. I hope you'll live the time you have left loving with your whole heart and each day by your own rules. Life is so long, my darlings, the only way to fill your days is with joy.

Love,

Rachel Louise Quinton

P.S. If Elizabeth hasn't introduced you yet, I'm going to kill her from beyond the grave.