Since the lottery was the highest pay out ever, Karen stopped to buy her first ticket. I waited in the car. I knew there wasn't a chance in a million either of us would win.

"Come on," she urged before slamming the car door.

"Not for me," I answered while turning on my cell phone to check my messages.

There were two voice mails from Gran. "Sara, don't forget my ticket," she echoed in my ear.

Moaning, I unfasted my seatbelt and made my way into the mini-mart to a long line of anxious, hopeful winners. I tucked Gran's ticket in my jeans pocket and met Karen at the car.

When I saw the winning number in the morning newspaper, I reached for the ticket. There it was. The winning numbers printed on Gran's ticket. My hands trembled. My eyes blurred. My thoughts raced. Does Gran ever have to know?