Dad, Since You’re So Lucky, Win To Death

My dad was a hardcore gambler. He always said he had the touch—that one day, he’d win us a mansion.

Instead, he stole my college savings, blew every cent at the table, and turned around to slap me across the face, blaming me for not hiding the money better.

When the loan sharks came to collect, he wanted one last buy-in.

He stole the only thing my grandma left me: her vintage gold heirloom bracelet. He pawned it and lost everything in a single night.

When the thugs kicked our front door open, he pointed at my mom and me to save his own skin.