“It has to be the post.” I groaned in my misery. My own, self-inflicted, stupid misery.
I’d left the hall after my grandma’s funeral service, still in all-black, and walked straight to the nearest gas station. It was pouring rain, fitting for such a dismal day. I’d purchased exactly $100 worth of lottery tickets.
Not because I could afford it, or because I had been feeling particularly lucky. I bought them because it had beenourthing. When I was growing up, any time I got a mediocre grade, my grandmother took me to buy a scratch-off. Someone was mean to me at school? Lottery ticket. I didn’t make the high school soccer team? Lottery ticket.
She used to say it was like tempting fate. If enough was going badly in your life, your fortune was bound to take a turn eventually. It sounded almost spiritual when she put it that way, but as I’d grown older, I’d realized the woman just loved a good gamble. But still. It wasourthing. Our ritual for bad days.
I had been convinced there was some truth to her madness, because of the night Dustin Turner stood me up for the big eighth-grade dance. Gran and I had driven to a gas station and bought slushies and one singular lottery ticket. Sitting in the passenger seat of her car, still in my sparkly navy dress, I’d scratched it off with a dirty quarter. My eyes had bulged when I’d looked at it, not believing it could be true. $750. The big winner. Gran took the ticket from my hands, put on her pink reading glasses, and let out a loud, “Whoop!”
We’d rolled the windows down, laughing and squealing with excitement, and driven ourselves straight to the nearest steakhouse for a nice dinner.
That was one of my shiniest memories of her. She’d stilldyed her hair back then. I could still picture it, fire engine red, as she sat across the booth from me. We’d ordered appetizers, drinks, and dessert with our meal. That was a big deal, considering that on the rare occasion we did dine out, it was entrées, water, and absolutely no extras.
It had felt like second nature to go get a handful of tickets on the day I said goodbye to her. It’s what we would have done together, had she still been around.
I’d never much believed in religion, or God, or any of that. But something much bigger and all-encompassing had been present as I scratched off the last ticket. My grandmother must have made some type of deal with the devil, because that was the only logical explanation for that ticket winding up in my hands that night.
I’d done a double and triple take, only to be met with the same conclusion. I had won the jackpot. Sixty-freaking-grand.
Before I could evaluate how much that would change my entire life, I had driven straight to the nearest fancy restaurant, ordered the most expensive item on the menu, and lifted a glass, closing my eyes and pretending like she was there with me.
It sure felt like she had been.
And yes, like the world’s biggest idiot to ever exist, I posted about it the next day. Because who wouldn’t? Winning the lottery on the day of your beloved grandmother’s funeral? That was a ‘chicken soup for the soul’ story if I’d ever heard one. How could I not share something that fantastical?
But it had bitten me right in the ass.
“It has to be someone you know,” Natalie said.
Ruby nodded. “Exactly. They had your address, knew about Vermont, and clearly follow you online.”
“Well, it wasn’t me,” Jackson said.
I scowled at him. “I never thought it was.”
“Just saying.” He held up his hands. “I know I said I was jealous when you won, but not in a weird, stalkery kind of way.”
Miranda threw open the door to the room, shooting us all glares. She was a good boss, stern but understanding. Fair. Although her expression always frightened me just a little bit. “Jackson, get out here now. Your client is waiting.”
“Oh shit, sorry.” He hurried to the door, pausing just long enough to glance back and catch my eye. “Keep me updated.”
Now it was just me, Ruby, and Natalie. They paced the microscopic room, getting progressively more heated.
“At least whoever has him isn’t threatening to harm him,” Natalie said.
“I guess.” My voice came out as a whisper. As awful as the whole situation was, my heart softened watching Natalie and Ruby panic on my behalf. I’d only started at the salon a few months ago. I hadn’t quite crossed the coworker-to-friend line with anyone yet, but it felt like I might be getting close.
“How long did they give you?” Natalie questioned at the same time Ruby asked, “Have you responded?”
“That was the only message,” I said, taking my phone back from Natalie. “I’ve been freaking out too much to respond. But I can’t even collect my winnings for a few more weeks, because apparently prizes over ten thousand need time to process, or some crap.”
“Tell them that,” Natalie said.
Ruby nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that will buy you some time to figure this out.”
A pit formed in my stomach. The more time it took to figure out who was behind this, the more time Vermont would be stuck who-knew-where. This whole ordeal was becoming more hopeless by the second.
“I thought my life was finally turning around.” The familiar burning of tears stung the back of my eyelids.
