She Said We’d Be Rich

No. I had to find Lydia.

Even if she was not at the apartment, she would definitely go back to the company.

She had not taken any of her things. Her desk still had that humidifier she loved so much.

I forced myself to ignore the dizziness and made my way toward the office towers downtown.

By the time I staggered into the company lobby, the security shift had changed. Still, they would recognize my face. After all, I used to work here as a sales rep.

I slipped inside during the brief moment when the access gate opened and ran straight for the HR department.

"Where's Lydia? Has anyone seen Lydia come back to process her resignation?"

The moment I burst into the HR office, I grabbed hold of Jess, the HR staffer I knew well.

She had been eating takeout in front of her computer. I startled her so badly that her fork fell to the floor.

She stared at me in panic.

"Y…You… How did you get in here? Didn't security stop you?"

"Cut the crap! I'm asking you where Lydia is! She said she resigned yesterday!"

I locked my eyes onto hers.

Jess shrank back in her chair.

"Lydia? Since when did our company have anyone named Lydia?

"If you want to go crazy, do it outside. Don't ruin my lunch!"

I froze.

"What nonsense are you talking about? Lydia sat right across from me for two whole years!

"At last month's annual dinner, she even won a rice cooker in the raffle! You forgot about that, too?"

Jess rolled her eyes, picked up the fork from the floor, and tossed it into the trash.

"Are you sick or something? The desk across from you has always been used to pile up junk.

"That rice cooker? You were the one who carried it home yourself and refused to let go of it.

"Go look at the employee roster yourself. Who here is named Lydia?"

She spun the computer screen toward me forcefully. Rows upon rows of names filled the display.

I scanned them one by one, my eyes burning.

Nothing.

There was no Lydia.

Not a single one.

How was that possible?

Had everyone joined forces to lie to me?

Just how much power did Austin have?

Enough to bribe my landlord, and now even my company?

Just then, I spotted a Maybach parked downstairs.

I recognized the license plate. It was the same car Austin drove in my residential compound.

He really was following me.

He wanted to wipe me out completely.

I spun around and bolted for the fire exit.

I had to find evidence. I had to find something that proved Lydia was real.

The money was fake. The person was fake. However, what about the lottery ticket?

That was a first-prize lotto ticket.

It was the national lottery.

There was no way Austin could have bought that off, too, right?

I remembered the day Lydia won. She had waved the ticket in front of me for ages.

I had memorized the numbers.

Red balls: 03, 07, 15, 19, 25, 33.

A blue ball: 09.

That was our lucky code. Our ticket to getting rich.

I sprinted out the back door of the office building and ducked into a narrow alley. Relying on memory alone, I made my way through the streets until I reached the lottery office downtown.

The banner at the entrance was still fluttering in the wind.

[Congratulations to this outlet for producing a first-prize winner.]

I knew it. There were still things in this world Austin could not control.

As long as I checked the winning numbers for that draw, I could prove I was right.

I rushed to the bulletin board, where the latest results poster was pinned up.

I stared at the numbers, eyes wide.

First number: 05.

Wrong.

It had to be a printing mistake. Or maybe this was the next draw.

I checked the second number: 12.

Still wrong.

Third number: 16.

Every single number was different from the ones I remembered.

I grabbed the poster and tore it to shreds.

"Fake! It's all fake! You're posting fake results to fool people!

"It was clearly 03! Clearly 07! I saw it with my own eyes!

"Did Austin Grant make you change it? How much did that bastard pay you?"

The people buying lottery tickets scattered, keeping their distance.

Only the shop owner charged out, brandishing a broom.

"Where did this crazy woman come from? You dare tear up my poster? Do you want to die?"

The broom swung at me, kicking up clouds of dust.

I was beaten into retreat, shielding my head as I fled. The Chanel outfit I was wearing was completely ruined, reduced to little more than a rag.

I curled up in the corner, tears mingling with dust as they flowed into my mouth.