Chapter 3

Derek sat on the couch with his head buried in his hands while Helen paced the living room, her voice rising higher with every lap.

"I cannot believe you agreed to divorce her! What was going on in your head? Tell me, Derek, what were you thinking?"

"I didn't agree to anything, Mom." Derek pressed his fingers hard against his temples, and a vein jumped along his jaw. "She hung up on me before I could say a word."

"Then why haven't you called her back?" Helen threw both hands in the air, and her swollen cheek shook with every word. "She hit me, Derek! Your own mother! And you sit there like a lump!"

Jessie slid closer on the cushion and wrapped both arms around his elbow, resting her chin against his shoulder. Her eyes were red and wet, and she blinked up at him with a trembling lip.

"I'm scared, Derek," she whispered. "If Hailey really leaves, who is going to take care of Liam? I can't do everything by myself."

"Nobody is leaving," Derek muttered, though his voice sounded weak even to his own ears. He rubbed his forehead slowly. "Just give me a minute to think."

"A minute?" Helen gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "The woman pays for the mortgage, the groceries, the car, and every single one of my beauty treatments! What are we supposed to do without her salary? Sell the furniture?"

"Mom, please." Derek's tone cracked at the edges, and he squeezed his eyes shut. His skull was pounding so hard that the room seemed to tilt. "I said I'll handle it."

Helen huffed and dropped into the armchair, glaring at the wall with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Jessie kept clinging to his sleeve, sniffling softly, while Liam banged his spoon against the highchair tray and wailed at the top of his lungs.

Nobody moved to pick him up.

Derek stared at the carpet, and the past began to slide into his mind whether he wanted it or not.

He had chosen Hailey the way a man chooses a good suit. She was beautiful, she was educated, and she held a steady job as a senior graphic designer with a salary any family would be glad to have. Only one thing had bothered him, and it had bothered him deeply. She was an orphan. No parents, no relatives, no name that opened doors and no money behind her.

She was perfect, and she was useless.

Then Jessie had come to him in tears, already pregnant. She was his dead brother's wife, and his brother had been in the ground for only a few months. The whole town knew her as the grieving widow, and the family could not let anyone learn that the baby was Derek's. Derek had panicked, and then he had gotten smart. A quiet, grateful wife who had no one to run to would make an excellent cover. The baby would be raised in his house as his son. Jessie would stay close, where he wanted her, and everyone would believe the story. 

He had never once imagined that the soft, obedient girl he married would look him in the eye and tell him his family was poor.

She has never talked back to me before, he thought, and his stomach twisted with something uglier than anger. Not once in all these years. So what changed overnight?

"Derek." Helen's sharp voice broke through his thoughts. "Are you even listening to me?"

"I'm listening."

"Then hear this." She leaned forward, jabbing a finger at him. "You call her back tonight, and you tell her it was a misunderstanding. You buy her flowers. You cry if you have to. I don't care what it takes, but that paycheck comes back into this house."

"And if she refuses?" Jessie asked in a small voice, biting her lip.

"Then we take half." Helen's eyes glittered coldly. "Half of everything she owns. The house, the savings, whatever she has. She must have money hidden somewhere if she can talk to us like that."

Derek lifted his head slowly. Something bright and greedy flickered behind his tired eyes.

"You're right," he murmured. "She was too confident on that call. Nobody talks like that unless there's something behind it."

"That's my boy." Helen nodded with grim satisfaction. "Find out what she's hiding."

"I'll get it out of her," Derek said, and his fingers curled slowly into a fist on his knee. "One way or another."

Jessie smiled sweetly and leaned her head against his shoulder, but her nails dug into his sleeve like little claws.

Across the city, Hailey sat behind the wheel of her car with the window rolled halfway down, letting the warm June wind blow through her hair. Her phone buzzed on the dashboard for the fifth time. The screen showed one name, glowing over and over.

She glanced at it, rolled her eyes, and tapped the screen to silence it without a second thought.

"Keep calling, Derek," she murmured with a small smile. "I'll answer when I feel like it. Maybe never."

Her hands rested easily on the steering wheel. Her heart beat slow and steady, and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, she was not afraid. The road ahead was clear. The sky was blue. And in her purse, folded neatly inside a plain white envelope, sat one small slip of paper that would change everything.

She had bought it that morning without a moment's hesitation, standing in line at a corner shop with the exact numbers burned into her memory. Fifty million dollars. She remembered the headlines. She remembered the news anchor's excited voice announcing that a single winner had walked away with the whole jackpot. In her last life she had watched that report on a cracked phone screen in a freezing shelter and thought bitterly that some people had all the luck.

This time, that person was her.

Please let the numbers be right, she thought, and her fingers tightened for a moment on the wheel. Let nothing have changed. Please.

She pulled into the lot of the state lottery office and parked in the first open space. The building was plain and gray, with glass doors and a security guard yawning at the entrance. It looked like the last place in the world where a life could change.

Hailey drew a slow breath, straightened her shoulders, and walked inside.

The woman at the front counter barely looked up from her screen. "Good afternoon. How can I help you?"

"Hi." Hailey slid the envelope across the counter with a calm smile. "I'd like to claim a prize."

"Sure thing." The clerk pulled out the ticket with a bored sigh and scanned it under the reader. Then she went very still. Her eyes flicked back to the screen, then to the ticket, then to Hailey's face. "Um. Just one moment, please."

"Take your time," Hailey replied sweetly, resting her elbows on the counter.

The woman disappeared through a door behind the desk, and Hailey heard hurried whispers and the scrape of a chair. Her pulse fluttered, but her face gave nothing away. A minute later a tall man in a gray suit strode out, holding the ticket carefully between two fingers as if it might break.

"Ms. Young?" he asked, a little breathless. "I'm the district manager. Would you mind stepping into my office?"

"Not at all."

She followed him down a short hallway into a small room with a leather chair and a wide desk. He gestured for her to sit, and she did, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap.

"Ms. Young, I'm pleased to confirm that this ticket matches all the winning numbers." He cleared his throat, and his voice trembled just slightly. "It's the only winning ticket for this draw. Congratulations. You've won the fifty million dollar jackpot."

Hailey exhaled softly, and the last knot of tension in her chest finally let go. A small, disbelieving laugh escaped her.

"That's wonderful," she murmured, pressing her fingers to her lips. Her eyes stung, and she blinked the wetness away before it could fall. "Thank you."

"We'll begin the claim process right away," the manager continued, sliding a stack of forms across the desk. "You'll have several options for payment. Most winners take a few weeks to decide, and we recommend speaking with a financial advisor before..."

"I don't need an advisor." Hailey picked up the pen and tapped it lightly against the paper. Her smile stayed polite, but her tone left no room for argument. "I know exactly what I want."

"Of course," he replied carefully, straightening his tie. "And what would that be?"

Hailey signed her name at the bottom of the first page in one smooth stroke and pushed it back toward him.

"I want the fastest payout you can give me. I need liquid cash immediately."