He looked back at the official seal printed on the state lottery document beside his elbow.

Mark stared in total silence at the certified seventy-three-million-dollar lottery disclosure page.

Then Mark pushed his chair back, the metal legs scraping loudly across the oak floorboards of the conference room.

His attorney reached out to grab his forearm, but Mark pulled free and walked past him into the carpeted hallway.

I picked up my purse from the side chair and walked toward the glass front door of the law office.

Mark caught up with me near the elevators, his tie knot crooked against his unbuttoned collar.