“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.

“Stella, are you out of your mind? Stop spouting nonsense!”

“Hurry up and come home with us. Don’t embarrass yourself in front of everyone!”

Before they even finished yelling, my father and brother lunged forward and tried to drag me away without another word.

Seeing this, Grandma Amy quickly stepped in front of me.

“Don’t be so rough with her! How can you treat your child like that? You’re scaring her!”

But Dad’s bloodshot eyes glared at her as he roared, “She’s my daughter! This isn’t your business!”

Grandma Amy was old, frail—she couldn’t possibly hold off someone as young and strong as my brother.

I felt his fingers clamp around my wrist.

***

In the next moment, I was being yanked across the ground. My knees scraped along the rough pavement—hot, raw pain radiating with every inch.

Even though the neighbors watching were sympathetic, none of them dared intervene physically. No one was going to wrestle with my parents over me.

Then suddenly, a strong pair of arms blocked my brother’s path.

“Who gave you the right to drag a young girl like that?!”

The voice was sharp, authoritative. My brother immediately let go. The police had arrived—someone in the crowd must have called them.

My mother rushed forward to smooth things over.

“Officer, this is our daughter. It’s getting late and she refused to come home. We were just worried about her safety, so we tried to bring her back.”

The officer turned to me.

“That’s not true!” I said loudly, tears and anger boiling in my throat. “I won the jackpot and they’re trying to drag me home and lock me up!”

Behind me, the three of them froze, their expressions warped with panic and disbelief.

“If you don’t believe me,” I said quickly, “ask the neighbors how strangely my family acted when they found out I won.”

The police turned to the onlookers and began asking questions. One after another, the neighbors confirmed it—my parents' and brother’s reactions had been far from normal.

With that, the officer’s tone darkened.

“Why did you stop your child from redeeming her winnings? Are you afraid she won’t share the money? She already said she wants to use the money for the entire family.”

But my parents just snorted, full of contempt.

“We don’t care about the money. We just want to bring our daughter home.”

The officer’s voice dropped into a warning growl.

“Unlawfully restricting someone’s freedom is against the law.”

But they still looked completely indifferent, as if none of this mattered.

I tugged at the officer’s sleeve, trembling.

“Then why? Why are they willing to break the law just to stop me from redeeming the prize?

Why do they need to lock me up?”

The officer gave my father a hard look. Under pressure, Dad finally caved—reluctantly pulling out his phone and handing it over, his movements filled with resistance.

When I looked down at the screen, everything suddenly made sense.