Stardust Independent School District were the town’s biggest employers, as well as a plant that made drilling rig equipment.
Breeanne had called both of the locksmiths in Stardust and neither of them had been able to open any of the locks without drilling into them. Nor could they explain why their lock-picking tools wouldn’t work on the trunk. Stubbornly, she refused to mar the hope chest by letting the locksmiths drill into the locks. Instead, she and her sisters had gone through every skeleton key they could find in Timeless Treasures on the off chance that one of them might work.
None of them had.
But the keys had given creative Suki an idea to turn skeleton keys into necklaces and sell them in her Etsy store. To that end, Suki had put a sign in the window offering to pay a dollar apiece for skeleton keys. So far, there had been no takers.
That Saturday afternoon just after closing time, Suki bounded up the steps waving a skeleton key over her head. “I got one, I got one.”
“Where did it come from?”
“Some little old lady brought it by.”
Goose bumps dotted Breeanne’s skin. Could it be the same woman who sold her the trunk? “What did she look like?”
“Tiny little thing. Weird yellow eyes. Wearing a Little House on the Prairie dress. Looked to be a hundred and ten, but she moved surprisingly spry.”
Breeanne put a palm to her mouth. It had to be the same woman. “Did she say anything about the trunk? About me?”
“Nope. Just wanted her dollar.”
Breeanne stared at the trunk, feeling a bit disoriented, the way she had when she’d found the hope chest.
“Well?” Suki held out the key. “Aren’t you going to try it? The suspense is murderlizing me.”
Breeanne took the key from her sister and together they knelt in front of the trunk. She reread the enigmatic warning engraved into the lid.
Treasures are housed within, heart’s desires granted, but be careful where wishes are cast, for reckless dreams dared dreamed in the heat of passion will surely come to pass.
“Here goes nothing.” Moistening her lips, Breeanne inserted the key into the first lock.
Suki lightly touched her shoulder. “Don’t forget to make a wish.”
She felt a bit silly, but how was this any sillier than wishing on birthday candles, falling stars, wishing wells, or pulley bones?
The old woman’s words of warning floated in her head. Be careful what you wish for, because you will get it. Once the wish has been cast, it cannot be undone.
Suki snapped her fingers in front of Breeanne’s face. “What’s the holdup?”
At that moment, Callie the calico cat, a Hurricane Sandy survivor that Suki had rescued when she attended NYU, dropped down from the bookcase overhead, landing solidly on the lid of the trunk with a loud thunk.
Suki let out a high-pitched squeak, and Breeanne jumped.
Callie gave them a smug gotcha-again expression, swished her tail, and narrowed green eyes in her Queen of All She Surveys mien. The cat loved pouncing on unsuspecting victims. The left half of Callie’s face was solid black, the right half orange. Her chin and chest were fluffy white, while her left forearm was orange and her right forearm was black. The back of her body was a swirly blend of black, orange, and white, giving her an exotic, one-of-a-kind appearance.
Suki picked up Callie, stroked her fur. “Go for it.”
Briefly, Breeanne closed her eyes. Made her wish. She twisted her wrist, but the key didn’t budge. She let out a shaky laugh. She’d actually thought it was going to work?
Just for the hell of it, she tried the key on the second lock. It did not open. Nor did the third lock.
Or the fourth.
She was so certain that the key was not going to open the fifth compartment that she almost forgot to make her wish, but just as she turned the key, she silently whispered, Please let my writing career take off.
The key turned. The lock clicked. The compartment cracked open.
Suki hooted. “It