My body went completely still.
Every nerve in me screamed as my mind struggled to catch up with what my ears already understood. I stepped back instinctively, turning Noah’s face into my shoulder so he wouldn’t see anything if the door opened.
The lottery ticket burned in my pocket like an accusation.
Just minutes earlier, I had believed I was the luckiest woman alive.
Standing in that hallway, I realized how wrong I had been.
I didn’t cry. Not then.
Instead, something cold and sharp settled in my chest. A kind of clarity I had never felt before. I understood, in that moment, that luck alone doesn’t decide who comes out ahead in life.
I turned away from the office door silently.
My legs felt unsteady, but my thoughts were suddenly clear. I walked past the receptionist again, nodded politely, and left the building as if nothing had happened.
In the car, Noah asked, “Is Daddy busy?”
Which was true. Just not in the way he meant.
When we got home, I put Noah in front of his favorite cartoon and locked myself in the bedroom. That’s when the tears finally came.
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