That was when I realized the truth—my entire family didn’t want me to cash in the lottery prize.

Panicked, I waved my hands, desperate to explain.

“Mom, Dad, this money isn’t just mine! With it, my brother can start a family, Dad won’t have to keep dodging debt collectors, Mom can finally get the treatment and surgery she needs... and I can go back to college! This is a blessing—it’s God giving us a way to survive!”

But they didn’t listen.

Mom and Dad exchanged tense glances, brows furrowed in silent panic.

Then Dad said grimly, “We can’t let this girl leave the house anymore.”

Mom’s face twisted into a cruel grimace. “I have an idea,” she muttered. “Put her in the basement with the wolfhounds.”

I froze. A chill crawled down my spine.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My own parents—planning to lock me up with wild dogs?

Why? Why were they acting like completely different people?

We were drowning in poverty. Five million dollars should’ve been a miracle, a reason to rejoice. Why did it feel like the end of the world instead?

Before I could even make sense of it all, Mom and Dad grabbed me and dragged me toward the basement.

Terrified, I turned and tried to run, but my brother caught me and held me tight.

I cried. I begged them to let me go. I even offered to give them the lottery ticket—to let them cash it instead.

But none of it mattered.

They ignored every plea and forced me down into that dark, damp, foul-smelling basement.

They gave me nothing to eat or drink. And worst of all, they locked me in there with a starving wolfhound.

My family knew—I had been attacked by a wild dog when I was little. I was terrified of dogs. Always had been.

The moment I saw the beast, I went numb with fear. My knees buckled.

I pounded on the door until my fists bled, screaming, begging them to let me out.

But no one came.

No one listened.

Then the wolfhound lunged.

Its jaws clamped down on my thigh, ripping out a chunk of flesh in one bite.

The metallic stench of blood flooded my senses. The pain was unbearable. I blacked out.

***

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

Mom stood there smiling, as if nothing had happened. “Stella, you must be hungry,” she said sweetly. “Mom made steamed buns for you.”

I stared at her, my body torn and bloodied and laughed—a cold, broken laugh.

How could she pretend like this?

I shouted, my voice cracking with fury and disbelief, “Why?! Why are you doing this to me?!”

Mom’s smile vanished in an instant, her face hardening into something cold and lifeless.

Dad’s expression twisted in disgust. Without a word, he raised his foot and kicked me hard in the chest.

“Ungrateful brat.”

I gasped for air, pain shooting through my ribs.

Mom’s eyes darkened. The corners of her lips curled into a slow, eerie smirk.

“Well, since Stella doesn’t want the steamed buns…” Her voice was thick with menace.

“Let’s let a few more wolfhounds in to play with her.”

“These dogs have been specially trained,” she added with a chilling calm. “They know how to ‘entertain’ disobedient dead girls.”

They opened the door again.

More wolfhounds came in—wild, vicious, starved.

They tore into me. I screamed as they ripped the flesh from my arms. Blood soaked the floor.

My limbs were shredded. My body couldn’t take it anymore.

By the end of the day, I was dead.

Torn apart by the very people I’d tried to save.

Even in death, I never understood—why?

Why did they all want me dead after I won that money?

Now, reborn, the terror from my past life surged up from my chest. My fingers clutched the lottery ticket, damp with sweat. I took a long, shaky breath.

This time, I’m going to find out the truth.

This time, I didn’t say a word to my brother about winning the lottery.

I figured that if I kept quiet—if he never knew I had the five million—everything would be fine.

But to my surprise, he smiled at me the next morning and asked, “Stella, I saw you went out to buy a ticket yesterday. Did you win?”

My heart skipped a beat.

Forcing a smile, I replied, “No, of course not. Winning the lottery’s not that easy.”

He tilted his head, still grinning. “You’re so careless with numbers. Give me the ticket, I’ll check it for you. Maybe you read it wrong.”

“There’s no need,” I said quickly. “I already checked every number, one by one. I really didn’t win. Don’t you trust me, brother?”

“No—what if it is a winning ticket and you just read it wrong? Wouldn’t that mean our family missed out on a huge chance?” my brother said. “It’s no big deal if I take another look, right?”

I stuffed the lottery ticket into my pocket deliberately and said coldly, “You just don’t believe me. I don’t want to show it to you.”

He thought I was just being bratty. Smiling, he reached out to ruffle my hair, then handed me the steamed buns again. “Okay, okay. I won’t look. You’re hungry, right? Eat something.”

I took the buns and headed for the door, casually tossing over my shoulder. “The weather’s nice. I’ll go get some fresh air.”

Really, I just needed to get out of the house. My nerves were frayed, my thoughts chaotic—I had to clear my head.

But as I turned into the alley, my heart stopped cold.

The lottery ticket was gone.

Every drop of blood in my body seemed to freeze. I spun around and bolted back toward the house.

From a distance, I saw him—my brother—standing frozen in the doorway, pale as a sheet. In his hand was the very ticket that should’ve been in my pocket.

Before he could tear it, I sprinted forward, snatched it out of his grasp and ran with all my strength.

Behind me, I heard his furious shout, “Stella! You can’t cash that ticket!”

Even in my past life, up until the moment I died, I could never understand it—why would the brother who’d loved me since I was a child change the moment he learned I’d won the jackpot?

The hatred in his eyes back then… it was something I’d never seen before.

Now, again, he was chasing after me like a madman. I wasn’t as fast or strong and he caught up quickly.

Terrified, I screamed for help. “Help! My brother is trying to kill me!”

The alley was lined with familiar neighbors. They rushed out at the sound of my cries.

My brother hadn’t expected me to shout. Realizing he couldn’t drag me off in public, I dropped to my knees in front of him, tears streaming down my face.

“Brother,” I sobbed, “we’re so close to finally having a good life. Why would you try to tear up the lottery ticket?”

His face twisted, teeth clenched. “You damn brat. Shut up!”

He tried to grab me again, but by then, the neighbors had already rushed over.

Uncle Josh, from next door stepped between us, pushing my brother away.

“What the hell are you doing, hitting your own sister?!”

Other neighbors chimed in.

“I heard something about a winning ticket. Isn’t that something to be happy about?”

“Even if it’s your sister, you can’t just beat her! That’s assault! Do that again and we’re calling the police!”

My brother stood there, chest heaving, veins bulging in his neck. His face was twisted with rage—but with so many people watching, he couldn’t do anything.

Then I saw his smirk.

He was looking behind me.

Confused, I turned—and my heart sank.

Dad was walking over.

He spotted the scene, me and my brother surrounded by angry neighbors. His brows furrowed. It didn’t take long for him to piece things together.

As Dad approached, I tensed, my nails digging deep into my palms. The neighbors quickly began complaining to him, explaining how my brother had tried to attack me.

Dad’s face darkened. Furious, he raised his hand and aimed a hard slap at my brother.

But before it landed, my brother suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs, “Stella won the five-million-dollar jackpot!”

“No, no! That’s not true—he made a mistake!” I cried, panic tightening my chest. My eyes were burning, my voice shaky.

“It’s one thousand percent true!” my brother yelled. “I even took a picture of the ticket!”

With shaking hands, he handed his phone to Dad.

Dad stared at the screen.

His eyes twitched slightly. His gaze locked onto the picture.

He didn’t move.

I stepped forward, my voice weak. “Dad...”

Then he looked at me—and his eyes were bloodshot.

Without warning, he raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face.

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

I was shattered inside, completely devastated—but I still gritted my teeth and tried to explain.

“Our family needs the money,” I said, trembling. “Mom needs treatment for her illness, Dad needs to pay off his debts, my brother wants to get married... and I—I just want to go back to school.”

“You ungrateful, heartless brat! How dare you talk back to me!” Dad exploded.

He lunged toward me, one hand shoving my head hard against the wall while the other reached into my pockets.

Just then, Mom rushed over and pushed him away with all her strength, placing herself between us to shield me.

“What are you doing?! Her forehead’s bleeding!” she shouted, voice shaking with fury.

But Dad didn’t back down—he just sneered coldly.

“You feel sorry for her? This heartless dead girl doesn’t deserve to be our child.”

The crowd gasped.

Everyone in the neighborhood knew how much Dad had doted on me. He used to say I was too precious to scold, too delicate to touch. The idea that he would say something like this was unfathomable.

Mom clutched her chest, stunned. “What the hell is going on?”

My brother stepped forward and handed her his phone, but I rushed to block her. I grabbed her arm and looked into her eyes, pleading.

“Mom, please. Don’t look at it. Don’t believe anything Dad or my brother says.”

I knew it—if she saw the picture, if she found out I’d won the jackpot—she’d change, just like they did. She’d turn her back on me too.

She wrapped her arms around me, trying to calm me.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. It must be some misunderstanding between your dad and your brother. They’re just being ridiculous. Once I sort it out, everything will be okay.”

I shook my head in desperation.

“No, Mom. Don’t believe them. If you believe what they say… you won’t love me anymore.”

She looked down at me with the warmest eyes, her voice gentle.

“Don’t worry, Stella. No matter what happens, I’m on your side. I’m your mother—I love you more than anything in the world.”

Then Dad suddenly snapped, voice full of impatience.

“She won the five million dollar jackpot! The ticket’s in her pocket!”

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

The gentle warmth drained from her face in an instant, replaced by a twisted, stony look. Her eyes darkened and her jaw clenched.

My heart seized.

A stiff, bitter smile tugged at her lips as she stared at me.

Unlike Dad and my brother, who were visibly excited and angry, her reaction was eerily calm. That unnatural stillness was far more terrifying.

“Such good news,” she said coldly. “Stella, come on—let’s go home and celebrate.”

But there was no joy in her voice. Not even a flicker of a smile on her face. Her hand reached out to me—but it was trembling.

She was clearly struggling to stay composed, suppressing something darker just beneath the surface.

“No—I don’t want to go home.” I scrambled to my feet and stumbled backward into the crowd.

Her brow furrowed. Her face darkened even more. Her eyes glinted with menace as she demanded coldly, “What’s the matter with you, Stella? It’s getting dark. If you’re not going home, where else do you think you’re going?”

I could see them both—my parents—moving in to grab me again.

Panicked, I turned to the neighbors, clinging to them with tear-streaked cheeks.

“Please, help me. I can’t go back with them. They’re going to kill me!”

The neighbors looked at each other in confusion.

They were all familiar with our family. I had always been the one most doted on, the apple of my parents’ eye. Even if I had misbehaved, it was natural for them to scold me. From an outsider’s point of view, it didn’t seem like something they should interfere in.

Everyone hesitated—until Grandma Amy stepped forward.

“This girl clearly has something weighing on her heart,” she said gently. “You shouldn’t force her.”

Another neighbor added, “Stella is such a good, obedient child. Just talk things through. Look at her—she’s terrified.”

But Mom and Dad were beyond reason now. Their faces were contorted with fury. They didn’t care who was watching. They kept coming for me.