By the time we head back, my arms are full. Security carries most of it without being asked, which still feels surreal.
Quinn chats easily with them, tosses out instructions like she's always done this, and I realize—distantly—that she's very good at moving through privilege without worshipping it.
She treats money like a tool, not a religion.
I want to learn how to do that.
***
When we pull into Arthur's driveway, my chest tightens unexpectedly.
I'm still getting used to the idea that this place is… a place I belong now. Maybe even mine, in some undefined way.
Quinn leans over to me. “I sent you a short list of independent financial advisors. No Dupree connections. You choose.”
“I already started narrowing it down,” I say.
Quinn smiles. “You're not just lucky. You're smart.”
The gates open smoothly. The SUV rolls forward. Security flanks us as we exit, bags transferred to staff who materialize from nowhere.
Quinn claps her hands once. "All right, I'm going to disappear before I accidentally become emotionally invested. Call me if you need anything. Including validation or a murder alibi."
"You think I'm going to need a murder alibi?"
"Not yet," she says brightly. "But we're establishing trust early."
Then she's gone, heels clicking down the walkway, her platinum pixie cut catching the afternoon light.
I stand there for a moment, surrounded by bags and staff and this enormous house that still doesn't quite feel real.
But for the first time since the lottery, the money doesn’t feel like it’s looming over me.
It helps knowing it’s sitting in accounts nobody else can touch.
Then I hear it.
Music. Bright, orchestral, unmistakable.
New Age of Legends.
Henry is already home.
He's on the floor in the living room, controller in hand, backpack abandoned nearby. The television fills the wall with vibrant colors—forests, castles, creatures that glow faintly in the animated dusk.
"Are you playingNew Age of Legends?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.
He looks up as I drop my bags and sink down beside him without thinking. "You picked the wrong character, though."
He gasps, mock-offended. "No I didn't."
"You absolutely did. Mage builds are slow in Act Two. You want a ranger."
Henry stares at me like I've just revealed classified information. "Wait. Really?"
"Trust me."
Ten minutes later, we're arguing strategy like long-standing teammates.
