I unzipped my handbag, took out the plastic sleeve, and laid it on the polished wood between our mugs.

“Look at the third row of numbers,” I said.

Evelyn set her spoon down.

She took her reading glasses from her sweater pocket, put them on, and picked up her phone from the edge of the table.

She opened the state lottery home page and held her phone screen right next to the ticket.

Her hands went still.

She reached over and gently rubbed my shoulder, her hand warm and heavy through my shirt.

“Is this the ticket you bought yesterday morning?” she asked softly.