It worked.
Arnold stared at the notification on his phone like it might disappear if he blinked.
Transaction successful. Funds transferred.
His throat felt dry.
He was sitting inside the bank, across from a customer service officer who was explaining account features, but the words sounded far away, like noise underwater.
He had done it.
He had actually converted some of the money.
Not all. He hadn't dared. Just a portion. Enough to test if this insane, impossible thing was real.
And now real money was sitting in the account the bank had just opened in his name.
His hand trembled slightly as he lowered the phone onto his lap.
"Sir?" the woman across from him smiled politely. "You'll receive your debit card in a few days, but your account is already active. You can start receiving transfers immediately."
Receiving transfers. If only she knew.
He nodded quickly. "Thank you."
His mind was racing so fast it hurt.
The competition cheque had been easy to cash. It was clean. Officially signed. That part made sense. People win money every day.
But the other money…
Ten million dollars, sent through a digital wallet from something that wasn't supposed to exist.
He had expected errors. Blocks. Authorities. Questions he couldn't answer. Instead, the exchange app had processed the trade and the bank alert had come through minutes later.
No alarms. No one grabbing his arm. Just numbers. Sitting there quietly. Waiting.
His chest tightened, not from fear exactly, but from the sheer size of it.
'This is real. I'm not broke anymore.'
The thought didn't feel like his. It felt like something he had stolen from another life.
Questions flooded him. Who was behind this? Why him? What happens when they want something back in return? But the system had called it a challenge. That meant this was step one and he might find answers along the way.
He slipped the phone into his pocket before he could stare at it again and give himself a heart attack.
"Is there anything else you'd like to set up today?" the bank officer asked.
He hesitated, then said, "No, this is fine." Because if he stayed any longer, he might start shaking.
He walked out of the bank in a daze, sunlight hitting his face, traffic moving, people arguing over taxi fares, normal life continuing like nothing had changed. Except everything had—at least for him.
He touched his pocket again, just to make sure his phone was still there.
Ten million dollars.
His head buzzed, different emotions tangling inside him like a knotted mess. Excitement. Anxiety. Disbelief.
He didn't know whether to laugh or sit on the sidewalk and breathe. Instead, his feet carried him somewhere else, a property office.
He hadn't planned it. He just walked in.
An hour later, after quiet conversations, ID checks, and a transfer that made the agent suddenly very respectful, Arnold stood holding a keycard.
"Congratulations on your new apartment," the woman said warmly.
The words rang in his head. New apartment.
A three-bedroom, fully furnished top-floor place with high ceilings and a wide view of the city was now his. It had his name on it. His chest felt too full, like he might burst from the rush flooding through him.
He stepped back outside, the fading sunlight brushing across his face, keycard clutched tight in his hand. He was on his way to see the apartment when something hit him.
Suddenly, all the swelling emotion collided into one familiar feeling. Guilt.
He had gotten carried away and almost forgotten about his old life.
His sister and Arya would have been worried sick. He'd been gone all day. His stomach twisted as he turned and started in the direction of the mart.
*****
The bell above the door chimed softly when he stepped inside.
Arya turned so fast she almost dropped the box in her hands. Relief flooded her face before it shifted into worry. "Arnold, where did you go? You just disappeared."
She hurried over, searching his face like she expected to find bruises or bad news written there. "I thought something happened. Your phone wasn't going through earlier."
"I'm fine," he said, and the smile tugging at his mouth just wouldn't stay down. "Better than fine, actually."
She narrowed her eyes. "Why're you smiling like that?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly unsure how to explain a day that felt unreal even to him. "I owe you one."
"For what?"
"For everything," he said quietly. "So tell me something. How would you like to go shopping later? You and Zendaya. Proper shopping."
Arya's expression shifted to disbelief. "With what money? Your salary? Arnold, I'm not spending money you worked yourself to the bone for."
He let out a soft laugh. "That reminds me."
Before she could ask what he meant, he was already walking past her toward the manager's office.
"Arnold?" She followed quickly, lowering her voice. "What're you doing?"
He knocked once and stepped inside.
The manager looked up from behind his desk, unimpressed. "You're late."
"I'm quitting."
The room went still.
"Excuse me?"
"I won't be coming back."
The man frowned. "You found another job?"
"Something like that."
Arya hovered by the door, panic creeping into her voice. "Arnold, stop playing."
"I'm not."
The manager studied him for a long moment, then gave a dismissive wave. "Fine. Leave your ID tag on the desk."
Arnold placed it down without hesitation and walked out, Arya trailing after him.
"Have you lost your mind?" she whispered harshly. "You can't just quit like that."
He didn't answer. Instead, he headed straight for the cashier.
Derrick looked up and immediately narrowed his eyes. "You've got that look."
Arnold tilted his head. "What look?"
"The 'something big just happened' look."
A slow smile spread across Arnold's face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out folded bills, placing them on the counter between them.
Derrick stared at the money, then at him. "What's this?"
"I couldn't withdraw much yet." He shrugged, trying to sound casual. "But it's a thank you."
"For what?"
"For not believing in me," Arnold replied, still smiling. "It helped more than you think."
Derrick blinked. "Boy, what did you do?"
"I won. And I'm starting something new soon. If you ever get tired of this place paying peanuts, call me."
Understanding began to dawn on Derrick's face. His eyes widened, and his hand moved toward his phone, already about to check the competition results.
Arnold saw it and chuckled. "Don't bother."
He turned to Arya next. "Come with me. I want to show you something."
"Arnold, what did you win?" she asked, completely lost now.
"Just come," he said gently.
She followed him outside, confusion written all over her face. They took a taxi across town and stopped in front of a tall glass building with security at the entrance.
Arya grabbed his arm. "Why are we here?"
"You'll see."
They entered the lobby, where polished floors reflected the soft lighting and a receptionist greeted them with a professional smile. The elevator ride up was quiet, the air thick with Arya's unasked questions.
When the doors opened, Arnold walked down the hallway and stopped in front of a door.
She caught his sleeve. "Arnold, don't tell me you're about to break into someone's house."
He swiped the keycard.
The door unlocked with a soft click.
He stepped inside and turned on the lights, revealing clean walls, new furniture, and wide windows overlooking the city.
He turned to her, happiness written all over his face. "This is our new home. You're welcome to stay anytime."
Arya didn't move.
Her fingers slowly curled into her palms. Her jaw tightened, a muscle ticking near her temple. The softness that had been in her eyes downstairs hardened into something brittle, something wounded. Her chest rose once, deep and uneven, like she was holding back words that refused to stay down.
"Arya…" he started, but before he could finish, her hand came flying across his face.