The sky was dark with rain clouds that threatened to pour open onto the black parade. A sea of black treaded slowly and solemnly through the fifty-third row of Our Mother of Sorrow Cemetery, stopping at the hole with the marble pillar towering over it, standing watch protectively. Men carried an ornamental gold coffin and lowered it slowly into the ground, the black's spirits with it. Most of the goers were crying, but the rare few stood silent, thanking their lucky stars that the foul woman was dead.
    "We are gathered here today, May 17th, 2015, for the funeral and celebration of Mary-Anne Josephine Davis, who left us and this world earlier this week," the priest began, "Mary-Anne was beloved by all and will be missed dearly."
    The priest then gave a small sermon, and the sea of black nodded in respect. The small few still thanking whatever gods existed for the death of Mary-Anne.
    A small five foot two girl with short red hair stood toward the front of the crowd, crying silently, "I will miss you Aunt and I will never forget you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
        It has been exactly three years since Aunt Mary died and I moved into her mansion estate with her butler Bruce Ailesworth. He has raised me since Aunt Mary died.
    Aunt Mary was the heiress of the Davis Technology Co. after my parents died in a car accident when I was five. Aunt mary has been taking care of me from her secluded mansion from which she also ran the company from. She has been having health issues for five years, and they were what ultimately took her life. She was very head-strong and since she barely left the mansion, she wasn't very well liked. She would yell at employees and tell them to do one thing, but wanted the exact opposite.
    However, Aunt Mary loved her garden, especially her anemone patches. They were her pride and joy, it now fell to me to take care of them. It became a morning ritual of sorts, weed and water the patches, and this morning was no different. I climbed down the spiral staircase in the lobby of the mansion to start the ritual. When I got outside, something felt off, but I gave it little thought. I knelt down in my overalls and started to pull out the plants that didn't belong.  I came upon a particularly dense patch of weeds, and I dug my fingers into the hard earth. My fingers curled around the smoothe edge of something, something that didn't belong. I pawed around more and found that the object felt like a small box.
    Hmmm...I thought. And worked around and under the box, until I could pull it out. My curiosity spiked when the small gold box was uncovered. It had elaborate swirls and lines in blue with small red jewels speckled around the front and sides. However, what surprised me the most was the initials M.A.J.D, front and center in delicate cursive. To be honest, I was puzzled. What is this? Did it belong to Aunt Mary? I contemplated.
    But my train of thought was interrupted when a sturdy grey-haired man in a suit with that matched his hair strolled through the French patio doors and spoke with a British accent "Miss Gwen, what do you have there, if I may ask."
    I smiled at the man who has taken care of me the last few years, "I'm honestly not sure, Bruce, maybe you have some insight on what it is?"
    "I'm sure that your interest is piqued, miss," Bruce took the box from my hands and began to examine it.
    Bruce knows that my biggest weakness was not knowing something. I got my love of knowledge and puzzles from Aunt Mary. I flipped my head to try to get rid of the thoughts, and my short red hair fell into my face.
    I stood up, dusted myself off, and adjusted my glasses, "what do you think it is?" I glanced up enough to see Bruce open the mysterious box and his face drain of color, "I-I have to go ma-make a phone call, excuse me." Then he leaves, box still in hand.