Edith Crawley headed up the stairs after her 18th birthday celebrations had concluded. She stifled a yawn and paused by the banisters.

'Edith! I have something for you!' Cora came out of the drawing room and hailed her.

'What is it?' Edith hurried over.

'It's from your Grandpapa. When he died he left this for 'my daughter Cora's middle child on her 18th birthday'. The lawyer only sent it over last week.' Cora held out a small, oblong package with a note slipped between the ribbon.

'Thank you.' Edith felt her mother's curious gaze prickled the back of her neck as she looked at the gift. Cora seemed in no hurry to move, fixing her big babyish blue eyes on the package.

For the first time in her life, Edith wished her mother was not paying her so much attention. She was sure this package, and the note, were for her eyes only, and anyway, Cora certainly hadn't shown this much interest in Edith for years. Why did she only actually become like her mother when Edith got something interesting?

'Well, goodnight Mama.' Edith couldn't bear her mother's gaze any longer and legged it up the stairs, hoping Cora would put it down to a sudden attack of diarrhoea after the rich food.

Once safely inside her room, with the door locked and a chair placed beneath the handle, she slid the note free from the ribbon.

'To Edith Crawley, my middle granddaughter, on her 18th birthday,

Edith, my dear,

You have always been my favourite grandchild, as I too am a middle child and I understand how hard it can be sometimes. I knew you were special when you were born because of how different you look from your siblings. To help you achieve all you desire, I am leaving you the tool that has helped me to become so rich and powerful.

Good luck, and happy Questing,

Isidore Levinson.'

'Tool? Questing?' Edith repeated dubiously. She turned her attention to the tool in question. She couldn't feel any identifying bumps or indentations when she ran her fingers over the wrapping-paper, nor could she hear anything when she shook it. Eventually, she decided that if she wanted to find out what was in this intensely interesting gift, she would have to open it, not stare at it in the hope that she would suddenly develop telekinetic powers.

With a sigh that wrapped itself around her and settled on her shoulders like a cloak, she ripped the paper off and turned the brown, gold-embossed book over.

On its cover were two words, in gold ink with swirling flourishes: Pause Menu

A frown drew her eyebrows together. She opened the front cover and….

the world froze.

Panic filled her brain.

She could not move, the room around her was frozen in place, everything still and unmoving. Worst of all was the silence. Absolutely nothing could be heard, not even her own breathing, and for a moment she feared it had stopped and she was dead, waiting for her soul to be transported away.

Then she found she could move her hands, and she snapped the book shut with such force that she almost fell over. The world returned to normality, the room lost its enforced stillness.

She gingerly stood up. 'What just happened?'

She was shaking; an Earl's daughter did not usually have to deal with mysterious books that stopped time. She could hear her Granny's voice in her head: 'That is what staff are for.'

Edith flung open her window, breathing in the cool night air. She was flushed from fear and excitement, and her hands hadn't stopped trembling.

'Edith?'

She bit back a scream of surprise as she spun round. Thankfully it was only Sybil knocking on her door to say goodnight.

'Uh-' She pressed her shaking hands against the door and forced her voice not to waver. 'G-goodnight Sybil.'

'Goodnight Edie.' Sybil's footsteps sounded, slowly fading away.

Edith sighed with relief and let her head fall onto the door. 'Finally.' She muttered.

Her eyes drifted to the book, lying abandoned on the floor. She picked it up softly, half-afraid it would kill her.

Stop being so silly. It didn't kill you last time. She scolded herself mentally. She wrapped herself in her duvet and sat back on her bed, gripping the book grimly.

Taking a deep breath, she flung open the covers.