Mike's Bet, Sarah's Win

The smell of burnt turkey still hung in the air, but the stench of ruin was far stronger. My husband Mike, the man who worked his hands raw, sat at our kitchen table, his head in his hands. Eighty thousand dollars. Vanished. Emily’s college fund, Mom’s arthritis surgery, next year’s mortgage on our Texas ranch house. Our entire future.

He’d lost it all in a ‘friendly game’ of poker with his old buddy, Jake Riley. Mike was broken, promising double shifts, desperate to make it right. But it was too little, too late.