I never won anything until now. Most days, I’m just getting through — looking after my teenagers, working in a job I don’t really like, wishing my husband would notice me once in a while. Now we’re living in a house bigger than my wildest dreams. The threats start immediately. The day we move in, the woman next door comes over, with a bottle of red wine. She eyes my husband like he’s a succulent piece of meat. Then I get a message congratulating me . . . and saying they know about what happened sixteen years ago. The mistake that ruined everything. And things are about to get even worse.