That was when I realized—none of them wanted me to claim the prize.

Panic gripped me. I waved my hands frantically, trying to explain. “Dad, Mom, this money isn’t just for me! With it, Rosie can pay her tuition, Dad won’t have to hide from debt collectors, Mom can finally afford surgery... And the doctor said if my leg doesn’t get treated soon, I’ll be crippled forever. This money—this is a lifeline from the heavens!”

But they ignored my pleas. Instead, they exchanged a tense, silent glance filled with unease.

Then my father muttered, “We can’t let the boy leave the house anymore.”

My mother’s expression darkened. “I have an idea—lock him in the basement. Put him in with the wolfhound.”

I stood frozen, paralyzed by the horror of what I had just heard.

I couldn’t believe it. Why? Why had they turned into strangers the moment they found out I had won five million?

This was supposed to be the best day of our lives! We were drowning in desperation—this money should have been our salvation!

But before I could make sense of it all, they were already dragging me toward the basement.

I tried to twist free, spinning around in a desperate bid to escape—but Rosie kicked my injured leg, and I crumpled to the floor.

Tears streamed down my face as I begged them to let me go. I even offered to give them the ticket, to let them claim the prize themselves.

But they didn’t listen. Not a word.

Without a shred of hesitation, they shoved me into that pitch-black, foul-smelling basement.

They starved me. Deprived me of water. Then they threw in a starving wolfhound.

They knew—they all knew that I had been bitten by a stray dog as a child. That I feared dogs more than anything.

The moment I saw the beast, my legs buckled beneath me. I pounded on the door, screaming, crying, pleading for mercy.

But no one answered. No one even came close.

The wolfhound lunged, tearing a chunk of flesh from my thigh.

The air filled with the thick, metallic stench of blood. The pain was so unbearable, I lost consciousness.

—

The next morning, my parents and sister came to check on me.

Mom smiled as if nothing had happened. “Julius, you must be hungry. I made you some steamed buns.”

I let out a bitter laugh. I couldn’t understand how she could pretend nothing had happened.

I snapped, madness overtaking me. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”

Her smile vanished instantly and her eyes went cold.

Dad’s face darkened as well, his gaze was filled with disgust. Without a word, he kicked me hard in the chest. “You ungrateful bastard!”

The blow knocked the breath from my lungs. I could barely inhale.

Mom’s eyes shimmered with malice. Her lips curled into a chilling smile.

“If Julius doesn’t want buns, then maybe he’d like more company.”

“These dogs were trained specially. They know how to ‘discipline’ disobedient little brats.”

They released more wolfhounds into the basement.

The beasts tore into me relentlessly, their jaws ripping flesh from bone.

Both my arms were torn from my body.

Within a single day, I died in agony.

Even in death, I couldn’t understand why.

Why did they want me dead just because I won five million dollars?

—

The terror from my previous life surged back. I clutched the lottery ticket tightly, took a deep breath, and made a vow.

This time, I will uncover the truth.

I didn’t tell Rosie I had won.

I thought, as long as she didn’t know, nothing would happen.

But then, with a bright smile, she asked, “Brother, I saw you went to buy a lottery ticket yesterday. Did you win?”

My heart skipped a beat in fear, but I forced a calm smile. “No, of course not. Winning isn’t that easy.”

She giggled. “You’re so careless, big brother. Give me the ticket. I’ll help you check—maybe you missed something.”

“No need,” I said casually. “I just double-checked every number, and my ticket didn't win. Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that,” Rosie replied. “But what if you did win and just made a mistake? Wouldn't we lose our only shot? There’s no harm in letting me take another look.”

I deliberately slipped the lottery ticket into my pocket. “So you don’t believe me, huh? I’m not showing it to you.”

Rosie pouted playfully, then stuffed a steamed bun into my hand. “Fine, fine. Don’t show me. You must be hungry—go on, eat.”

I held the bun and headed for the door. “It’s a nice day. I’m going out for some fresh air.”

I just needed a moment away—to clear my head and calm my racing heart.

But as I turned the corner down the alley, my chest suddenly tightened.

The lottery ticket was gone.

My blood ran cold.

I spun around and sprinted back toward home. From a distance, I could see Rosie standing stiffly at the doorway, her face was pale as a sheet.

And in her hand—was my ticket.

She raised her hand to tear it apart.

I lunged forward and snatched it back just in time, then turned and ran without looking back.

Behind me, I heard her shout in fury. “Brother, you can’t cash that ticket!”

In my previous life, right up until my dying breath, I never understood why Rosie—the sweet, affectionate sister who had clung to me since childhood—had suddenly become a different person the moment she learned I’d won the lottery.

There had been something poisonous in her eyes that I’d never seen before.

Now, she was chasing after me with everything she had. I was still injured, and she caught up quickly.

Trembling, I cried out at the top of my lungs. “Help! Rosie is trying to kill me!”

The alley was lined with familiar neighbors. Hearing my cries, people began coming out of their homes to see what was happening.

Rosie hadn’t expected that.

Realizing she couldn’t get away with it now, I turned and dropped to my knees in front of her, tears streaming down my face.

“Rosie, we’re about to have a good life. Why would you try to destroy the ticket?”

Her expression twisted. She gritted her teeth and hissed under her breath, “Shut your filthy mouth, you bastard.”

She grabbed me and tried to drag me away—but by then, some neighbors had already rushed over.

Mr. Olson from next door pulled her off me with a scowl. “What are you doing, hitting your own brother?”

Others began chiming in.

“We heard something about a winning lottery ticket—why are you getting violent over such a great thing?”

“Even if he’s your brother, hitting someone is still against the law. Touch him again and we’ll call the police!”

Rosie stood there panting, veins bulging in her neck, her eyes locked on me with hatred.

But with so many people watching, she couldn’t do anything.

Then, suddenly, she gave a sweet smile—but not to me.

She was looking over my shoulder.

I turned to see what she was smiling at—and froze.

Dad was coming.

From a distance, he saw us surrounded by neighbors. His brows furrowed immediately. It didn’t take a genius to guess something was wrong.

As he walked closer, my whole body tensed.

The neighbors started talking over each other, telling him Rosie had hit me.

Dad’s face twisted with rage. Without a word, he raised his hand and aimed a slap at her face.

But just as the blow was about to land, Rosie screamed, “Brother won five million dollars in the lottery!”

My heart stopped.

“No! That’s not true—she’s mistaken!” I said, my voice was shaking, my eyes burning with panic.

“It’s true! I took a photo of the ticket!” she snapped, holding her phone out to him, breathless with excitement.

Dad’s eyes fell on the screen. His pupils twitched. Then his gaze froze, locked on the image.

I called out, voice barely a whisper, “Dad...”

He looked up slowly, eyes bloodshot.

And then—he slapped me across the face.

“You ungrateful brat! Your sister told you to tear up the ticket—why didn’t you listen?!” He seethed.

I was crumbling inside, but I clenched my teeth and forced myself to explain.

“Dad, we really need this money. Mom is sick and needs treatment, you’re drowning in debt, while Rosie has school expenses. I just want to fix my leg. I don’t want to be crippled forever—”

“Shut your damn mouth, you worthless bastard!” my father roared.

He charged at me and kicked my injured leg with full force. I collapsed to the ground, crying out in pain as he yanked violently at my pocket, trying to snatch the ticket.

At that moment, my mother rushed over and shoved him away, shielding me with her body.

“Have you lost your mind?! His leg is already hurt! Keep this up and he’ll be crippled for life!” she shouted, voice trembling with rage.

But instead of getting angry, my father only sneered coldly.

“Oh, you feel sorry for him? This heartless little bastard doesn’t even deserve to be our child.”

His words stunned the neighbors. Everyone in the neighborhood knew my father had always doted on me. People often gossiped about how he favored sons over daughters, but he never cared what they said. No one could believe he’d say something like that now—about me.

My mother clutched her chest, her voice shaking with fury.

“What on earth is going on?!”

Rosie held out her phone to her, but I jumped up and blocked her, looking at my mom with pleading eyes.

“Mom, please don’t look. Don’t believe what they’re saying.”

I knew the moment she saw that photo—the moment she found out I’d won the lottery—she’d stop seeing me as her son.

She gently wrapped her arms around me, her palm patting my back in slow, soothing strokes. Her voice was warm and tender, full of comfort.

“Don’t worry. There must be some kind of misunderstanding. Let me talk to them, sort this out, then everything will be okay.”

I shook my head desperately.

“No, Mom... if you believe them, you’ll stop loving me.”

She cupped my face, her gaze soft and steady.

“Julius, listen to me. No matter what happens, I’m on your side. I love you more than anyone in this world.”

At that moment, Dad barked impatiently, “He won five million! The ticket is in his pocket!”

The moment those words left his mouth, my mother’s expression changed.

Her once gentle face twisted with ferocity, and a shadow of darkness flashed in her eyes—it sent a chill through me, making my whole body tremble.

She gave me a tight, unnatural smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Unlike Dad and Rosie, who had reacted with fury and excitement, Mom’s eerie calm felt even more terrifying.

Her voice was low and emotionless.

“This is good news, Julius. Come home. We should celebrate.”

But there was no joy in her words. No laughter in her tone. And the hand she reached out with was trembling—betraying the storm she tried to hide.

She was trying to hold it together. Forcing herself to stay composed.

But I could see right through it.

“No—I’m not going home.” I backed away, stumbling through the crowd, my breath ragged with panic.

Her brows furrowed, her voice sharpened, turning cold and dangerous.

“What are you doing, Julius? It’s getting dark. Where do you think you’re going if not home?”

Both my parents were closing in.

I spun around and grabbed the nearest neighbor, tears spilling down my face as I begged.

“Please... please help me! I can’t go back with them. They will kill me!”

Everyone around exchanged bewildered glances.

After all, in their eyes, I’d always been the most loved child in the family. Even if my parents were strict, it was always out of care. Outsiders couldn’t justify interfering.

Just as the crowd hesitated, unsure what to do—Old Granny Fatima stepped forward.

She squinted at me, her tone gentle but firm. “Seems like something’s weighing on Julius’s heart. Let’s not force him right now.”