“Then it begins.”

The letter ended there. Everyone else around the table looked shocked, but I remembered Grandma hinting at it a few months before her death. “When I die,” she’d said, “I want a giant Kahoot game with 200 questions about my life, and whoever wins gets my will.”

I’d laughed, thinking it was a joke. But here we were, close and extended family alike, preparing to play the biggest Kahoot game of our lives.

I thought how weird it would be if my distant cousin from Florida won (not to mention Grandma was practically rolling in it before she popped her clogs). I sort of wished Grandma hadn’t had such a wicked sense of humour. Then again, my 18th birthday was tomorrow, so there wouldn’t be an excuse for my parents to stick it in the trust fund if I won.

We were ushered into a hall and I took a seat towards the back, waiting in anticipation. The guy who’d read the will took out a USB and plugged it in to a laptop. On the projector, a Chrome window with Kahoot already open fizzled to life. The code was already there, too — and naturally it was 696969. I typed it in and put my name as the Grim Reaper (because that’s what she would’ve expected of me).

Once all sixty of us were in the game, the guy (who’s name was Jonah) pressed Start and the games began. “Round One - Faves,” Jonah read out, and I could tell he was regretting this already. But a last wish was a last command, so we had no choice.

I felt confident about this round. I knew Grandma better than everyone, including her own kids. Our long chats had given me the answers to all these questions (“What was my fave colour when I died?” or “What was my fave Taco Bell branch?”) so I cruised through the round easier than everyone else. One round done and I was leading. I spotted some of my uncles and aunts giving me dirty looks, but I ignored them and thought of the ways I could rub it in their faces if I won.

Round Two was general knowledge. Grandma always loved trivia, and we would spend hours playing Trivial Pursuit together. I noticed rather quickly that the ‘general knowledge’ was a compilation of her favourite Trivial Pursuit questions. Two rounds done and I was still ahead. My nerves buzzed out and I began to feel calmly optimistic.

After two more rounds (“Would I Rather” and “Guess the Flag”) I came to the realisation that this whole thing was rigged. All of these questions I’d discussed at some point or another. Grandma was relying on my decent memory for me to win. I sent her a silent thanks and continued the game, biting the inside of my cheek to hide a smirk.

Halfway through and I was pretty sure everyone in the room hated my guts. My family has one thing in common and that’s a fierce competitiveness. Plus the adults didn’t like the idea of handing a colossal sum of money to a teenager (albeit an extremely responsible one, thank you very much).

The rounds got harder as the game progressed. My brain was straining to remember all these facts, but I pulled through. I missed some questions here and there, but my position in first stayed rooted firmly in place. The whole hall was more silent than a real exam, and I could see beads of sweat glistening on some of their foreheads.

At one point my sister Stephanie turned around and hissed, “What’s the answer? I’ll get you Starbucks for a week!” I felt like this was too good of an opportunity to pass up, and there was the extra perk of annoying the hell out of certain people.

I yelled, “IT’S THE BLUE ONE!” and watched as everyone instinctively pressed blue. Turned out the answer (my real answer) was yellow.

The last question came, in a round of its own — The Decider. Jonah had abandoned his grumpiness and now seemed rather excited. My nerves returned in full force. “Who is my favourite relative?”. The options were Keith (my dad), Leilani (my cousin), Jarred (my uncle) and myself. I had a bit of a narcissist moment, I’ll admit, and pressed my own button without thinking. Then I realised the answer was probably Jarred.

The longest 20 seconds of my life.

The podium came up.

In first place…

“Grim…Reaper?”