…I remembered something.
Something tiny.
Something I dismissed completely at the time.
Mrs. Lupita.
Smiling strangely when I entered.
Telling me:
“Good luck, sweetie.”
Not weird by itself.
Except…
…she had already printed the ticket before I finished choosing my snacks.
Daniel noticed my face instantly.
“What?”
I swallowed hard.
“She already had the ticket ready.”
The entire warehouse became still.
The woman’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Explain.”

“I walked in after work. I grabbed coffee and chips. But when I reached the counter… she already had the ticket sitting beside the register.”

Daniel frowned.

“But you chose the numbers yourself.”

“I thought I did…”

Then another memory hit me.

Hard.

Mrs. Lupita insisting:
“Try Quick Pick this time. Trust me.”

My pulse exploded.

I had NEVER used Quick Pick before.

Never.

I always chose personal numbers.

Always.

The woman stepped closer carefully.

“But that day you changed?”

I nodded slowly.

“Oh my God…”

Daniel looked disturbed now.

“Maya…”

I could barely breathe.

“I remember feeling weird about it…”

The woman’s voice lowered.

“Did you keep the original ticket?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“In a safety deposit box.”

The woman exchanged a look with one of the suited men behind her.

Then she spoke carefully.

“We need to examine it.”

Daniel immediately stepped forward.

“No.”

The woman finally showed the slightest sign of irritation.

“You don’t understand the situation.”

“No,” Daniel replied coldly.
“You don’t understand ME.”

That actually surprised her.

Because everyone else in the warehouse feared her.

But Daniel only looked protective.

Dangerously protective.

The woman studied him quietly for several seconds.

Then asked:

“You really didn’t know about the money?”

“No.”

“And you defended her anyway.”

Daniel’s jaw tightened.

“She’s my wife.”

Something flickered briefly across the woman’s face.

Not emotion exactly.

Recognition.

Then suddenly—

BZZZZZT.

One of the suited men received a call through an earpiece.

His expression changed instantly.

He turned toward the woman.

“We found the retailer.”

Everyone froze.

Mrs. Lupita.

The woman spoke sharply:

“Alive?”

The man hesitated.

“…Barely.”

My stomach dropped.

“What happened?”

The suited man swallowed.

“Store was burned twenty minutes ago.”

Silence.

Pure horror-filled silence.

The woman closed her eyes briefly.

Too late.

Someone was already cleaning up evidence.

Then the man added one final sentence:

“And there’s something else.”

The woman looked at him.

He glanced toward me nervously.

“The witness said Mrs. Lupita kept repeating one name before collapsing.”

My heart hammered violently.

“What name?”

The suited man answered quietly.

“Maya”

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