“I don’t believe you.” The man’s voice echoed like he was calling from a bathroom.

Giselle sighed. “Sir, if you play the numbers I give you, then you’ll have proof.”

“But you’ll only give me three numbers. I can’t win anything with that.”

“You’ll win enough to pay for the card,” Giselle replied. “More if you guess any other numbers correctly. Better odds than anyone else has.”

“But I’m paying you five bucks. Add that and I’m not even guaranteed to break even.”

“For thirty dollars, I’ll give you four numbers. A thousand and I’ll give you five.”

He paused. “If you’re not lying.”

“I’m not lying.” She rolled her eyes.

“Why don’t you play for yourself, then?”

“Ah,” she said. “This is the part where we talk about karmic backlash…”

By the end of the call, he had paid her more out of curiosity than anything. She knew he’d call back the next day after it worked. Unfortunately, he’d want to win big, she’d give him all the numbers, and he’d die in a car crash six months and six days later. Karma was a bitch.