"Abner, how can you be this heartless?"
He couldn't meet my eyes. His face twisted with something that might have been guilt—if he'd been capable of it.
"Just... give Mom the ticket first," he mumbled.
I laughed. A bitter, broken sound.
This was the man I'd chosen.
My hand trembled as I pointed to my purse.
"Behind our photo..."
My mother-in-law snatched it up, ripping out the family portrait—me, Abner, and Rosemary, smiling like we meant it. She tossed the photo on the ground without a second glance.
There it was. The lottery ticket I'd hidden behind it.
"Finally!" She clutched it like a lifeline.
Her daughter shouldered in immediately. "Wait—check the numbers. Make sure she didn't pull a fast one."
They verified it three times, four, their laughter growing louder with each confirmation.
"It's real. This is the one."
I stared at them, my voice hollow.
"Can we take my mother to the hospital now?"
Abner moved instantly, lifting my mom with exaggerated care. "Let's go. I'll drive."
The whole way there, my mother-in-law kept the ticket clutched in her fist like it was her own beating heart.
I held my mother's ice-cold hand. The tears wouldn't stop.
In the rearview mirror, Abner's face was blank. Empty. Like he'd already checked out.
Behind me, they were already dividing the spoils.
"Twenty people," my mother-in-law counted. "Fifty thousand each..."
Her son piped up. "Can I get my share now? There's this phone I've been wanting—"
"What's the rush? We'll cash it together tomorrow!"
I closed my eyes.
All I could hear was the clicking of their mental abacuses.
They wheeled my mother into surgery.
My father sat in the hallway, Rosemary curled in his lap. His face was gray.
The others? Laughing. Chattering. Planning.
"I'm getting that bag," Abner's sister announced. "The one I've had my eye on forever."
"After my phone," her brother added, "I'm upgrading my gaming setup."
My mother-in-law beamed. "Sure, sure. Whatever you want!"
Then the nurse appeared, clipboard in hand.
"Family of Genevieve James? We need a hundred-thousand-dollar deposit."
I turned to Abner.
"The ticket is half mine. Transfer me a hundred thousand."
He froze.
In his mother's grand plan, I'd never existed at all.
She heard me and scowled. "Your mother's illness is your family's problem. Why should my son pay for it?"
I looked at her. No anger left. Just cold, dead certainty.
"So you're going back on your word? You just said the ticket was marital property. That means I'm owed five hundred thousand."
She planted her hands on her hips, smirking.
"That ticket was my son's gift to me. I've already distributed it."
Of course.
Exactly the face I'd expected to see.
"Is that what you think too?"
He stared at the floor. Silent.
"Put yourself in my place," I said quietly. "If it were your mother on that operating table—what would you do?"
Still nothing. His head stayed bowed.
Finally, after an eternity, he squeezed out the words.
"I'm sorry. But I already promised Mom... I can't go back on it now."
"So my mother just dies? We stand here and watch her die?"
He winced. "Maybe you could... borrow from your relatives?"
His voice shrank to almost nothing.
"Or use your savings..."
"What savings?!"
I lost it.
"You pay the mortgage—that's it. The car payments? Me. Groceries, utilities, everything we need to live? Me. Rosemary's tuition, her classes, her everything? All me!" My voice cracked. "If I had savings, do you think I'd be begging for what's rightfully mine?!"
I stared at him.
"You make twenty thousand a month. After the mortgage, you have twelve thousand left. Where does it go, Abner?"
He opened his mouth. Glanced at his mother.
Said nothing.
"Right here." My mother-in-law stepped forward, chin high, triumph dripping from every word. "It comes to me."
