I'd only ever told one person about that money—and that person was Isabel.

I never expected her to turn around and tell Arnold.

My hands trembled.

Something told me they were hiding more from me.

"That money is for my daughter's education. I will never touch it!"

The color drained from my daughter's face when she heard me.

She tugged hard at my sleeve.

"Dad, I don't have to go to school!"

"But you have to buy Uncle Arnold a house!"

"What nonsense are you talking about?!"

I stared at this girl—the daughter I'd held in the palm of my hand and raised for seventeen years. I couldn't believe those words had come out of her mouth.

But she stepped closer, her voice dropping so low only I could hear.

"Dad, trust me. Just this once."

"Don't ask questions. Just keep playing the red envelope game."

She'd never asked me for anything like this before.

My heart hammered with uncertainty.

Did she know something I didn't?

I closed my eyes. "Fine. I'll do it."

Arnold's voice shook with barely contained excitement.

"Brother-in-law, you really are the best brother-in-law a man could ask for!"

"As soon as the holiday's over, we'll go house shopping. No backing out!"

My daughter cut him off.

"Uncle Arnold, the game isn't over yet. It's my dad's turn to send a red envelope."

Catching the look in her eyes, I pulled out my phone and sent a red envelope into the group chat.

Seconds ticked by.

The group chat was eerily silent.

After a long pause, the only notification that popped up was my daughter claiming the envelope.

I let out a bitter laugh. "What's this? When it's my turn to send one, suddenly nobody wants to play?"

Arnold was the first to recover, forcing out a dry chuckle.

"Of course we do. Hang on."

The others exchanged glances and picked up their phones one by one.

Soon enough, the system showed the envelope had been claimed.

I tapped on the details—and my blood ran cold.

A one-dollar lucky draw envelope, split among five people.

Every single person got exactly twenty cents.

Not a penny more. Not a penny less.

Nanette clapped her hands and laughed. "Oh my, our luck tonight is just terrible! Not a single lucky winner!"

Nicholas chuckled along. "Guess this round's a wash, then."

I turned to my daughter in shock, but her expression was perfectly calm.

This was a lucky draw envelope—the whole point was that amounts were random. And every single person had gotten the exact same share.

Was that probability even possible?

"Something's off. I'm sending another one."

"Off? What's off?"

Arnold erupted.

"Brother-in-law, rules are rules! No lucky winner means the round is void. You don't get a do-over!"

"Where's your sportsmanship?!"

Isabel shot me an impatient look.

"Leslie, what is wrong with you tonight?"

"It was a perfectly good New Year's dinner, and you've ruined it!"

The more I thought about it, the less any of it added up. I turned to my daughter.

"Sweetheart, you send one in the group. Let's see what happens."

Isabel stepped directly in front of her, blocking her.

"Leslie, this is a game for adults. She has no business being part of it!"

My mind was a tangled mess.

But now I understood—completely. This whole thing was a setup. Every last one of them had been in on it.

I turned to leave.

Isabel grabbed my arm.

"It's New Year's Eve. Where do you think you're going?"

My fists clenched slowly at my sides.

Fine. Consider this game the price of seeing people for who they really are.

But just as I thought it was over, my daughter seized my arm again.

"Dad, keep playing!"

"You have to keep playing with them!"

In seventeen years, my daughter had never once talked back to me. Not a single word.

But tonight, she was like a different person.

I even had the absurd thought that something had possessed her.

I took her hand, keeping my voice as low as I could, terrified of setting her off.

"Sweetheart, what's gotten into you tonight?"

"Something's clearly wrong here. Dad's card is already empty—we really can't keep playing."

Before I could finish, she broke down.

"Dad!"

She grabbed my sleeve so hard her knuckles turned white.

"You have to keep playing tonight!"

It didn't sound like a plea.

It sounded like an order.

Our argument quickly drew everyone's attention.

Arnold's eyes narrowed, his gaze darting around as the gears turned.

"Ramona, your dad's got nothing left. If he keeps winning, what's he even going to put up?"

My daughter slowly raised her head and looked at them.

Her voice was steady.

So steady it sent a chill down my spine.

"Who says my dad has nothing left?"

"Doesn't he still have the Southside land project?"

My mind went blank—a sharp, ringing buzz behind my eyes.

The Southside land project was the cornerstone deal I'd been personally spearheading at the company. All the groundwork was already in place. If it went through, we weren't just talking about a seven-figure commission—my entire position would move up the ladder.

More importantly, I had never breathed a single word about it at home.

How did my daughter know?

Arnold's eyes lit up like a predator catching a scent.

"The Southside land project? Now that's a prime cut!"

"Brother-in-law, you've been holding out on us!" Nanette's tone dripped with reproach. "A deal this big and you don't even tell the family? Do you even consider us family at all?"

I stared at my daughter, and something inside me went cold, degree by degree.

All these years, I was the one who stayed up through the night when she was sick. I was the one who drove her to school every single day, rain or shine.

I thought—at the very least—she was on my side.

Instead, she'd handed them my last card.

I was done.

"I'm not playing anymore."

I turned to leave.

Isabel's voice cracked like a whip behind me.

"Leslie!"

"You walk out that door, and we're getting a divorce!"

I didn't look back.

"Then we're getting a divorce."

"I'm done being part of this circus."

The instant I pulled the door open, a chorus of screams erupted behind me.

I spun around.

Ramona had shoved the window open—I had no idea when. Frigid wind howled into the room, and she was already halfway out, her toes dangling over nothing.

In that moment, every drop of blood in my body ran backward.

"Ramona!"

"What are you doing?!"

The words ripped out of me, raw and ragged.

She turned to look at me. The wind had leached all color from her face, but her eyes—her eyes were steel.

"Dad, if you don't keep playing, I'm jumping."

My entire world tilted. Everything went sideways.

My first instinct was that she was bluffing.

Then she inched forward another fraction, and my knees buckled.

Isabel rushed toward me, panic splintering her voice. "Leslie, what project could possibly matter more than your daughter?! Just agree!"

Nicholas chimed in right behind her. "Leslie, I know you're angry, but the child is innocent. For Ramona's sake—can't you just bear with it?"

When I said nothing, Nanette shrieked, "How can you be so heartless?! If anything happens to Ramona, I won't want to live either!"

I looked at my daughter, suspended in the void beyond that windowsill, and a crushing wave of helplessness crashed over me.

"Fine. Fine!"

"Fine, I'll play! I'll play, okay?!"

The second the words left my mouth, I rushed over and pulled my daughter back from the window ledge.

"You foolish child!"

"How could you gamble with your own life like that?!"

She leaned into my arms and whispered, "Dad, trust me. Everything I'm doing is for your sake."

I looked down at her.

This was the child I'd raised, watched grow up from infancy—yet in this moment, I couldn't read her at all.

Could it be... she really did know something?

"Since Ramona's fine now, let's get back to the red envelopes. Mom, it's your turn."

Arnold hurried to prod his mother-in-law along, but my daughter stopped him.

"Uncle Arnold, I haven't sent my red envelope yet."

Arnold let out a laugh. "You're just a kid. You can't be part of this game."

Ramona slowly lifted her head and looked straight at him. "Are you sure about that?"

Arnold had been completely certain.

But in the next instant, the color drained from his face.

"That's... not possible."

He stared at Ramona as if he'd seen a ghost.

After a long beat, he clenched his jaw.

"Fine. If Ramona wants to play, let her play."

She pulled away from my arms and sent a red envelope in a flash.

Sure enough, I drew the winning share again.

"Dad, I want you to hand the Southside land project over to Uncle Arnold."

From an angle only I could see, she flashed me a tiny V-sign.

In that instant, something clicked. My heart lurched.

I nodded.

Arnold let out a shriek.

"The Southside land project is actually mine?!"

"Once I close this deal, I'll be a millionaire! Isabel, Dad, Mom—just sit back and wait for the good life!"

His face was flushed crimson with excitement.

Isabel, Nicholas, and Nanette made no effort to hide their euphoria.

Watching them revel in their petty triumph, all I felt was that the family I'd fought so hard to hold together was nothing but a joke.

Just as despair threatened to swallow me whole, Ramona walked up and stood in front of me.

She spread her arms wide, as though shielding me.

"This round's over. Next round, let my dad send the red envelope first."

Arnold was still riding his high. When he heard her, he agreed without a second thought—clearly convinced I posed no threat whatsoever.

Under my daughter's watchful gaze, I sent the red envelope.

The moment it went through, I realized my hands were trembling.

Across the table, Isabel and her family looked unconcerned. They tapped open the envelope almost simultaneously.

The next second.

I saw it clearly.

Every drop of color bled from their faces.

"How is that possible?!"