"Dad, trust me. Just this once."
"Don't ask questions. Just keep playing the red envelope game."
She'd never asked me for anything like this before.
My heart hammered with uncertainty.
Did she know something I didn't?
I closed my eyes. "Fine. I'll do it."
Arnold's voice shook with barely contained excitement.
"Brother-in-law, you really are the best brother-in-law a man could ask for!"
"As soon as the holiday's over, we'll go house shopping. No backing out!"
My daughter cut him off.
"Uncle Arnold, the game isn't over yet. It's my dad's turn to send a red envelope."
Catching the look in her eyes, I pulled out my phone and sent a red envelope into the group chat.
Seconds ticked by.
The group chat was eerily silent.
After a long pause, the only notification that popped up was my daughter claiming the envelope.
I let out a bitter laugh. "What's this? When it's my turn to send one, suddenly nobody wants to play?"
Arnold was the first to recover, forcing out a dry chuckle.
"Of course we do. Hang on."
The others exchanged glances and picked up their phones one by one.
Soon enough, the system showed the envelope had been claimed.
I tapped on the details—and my blood ran cold.
A one-dollar lucky draw envelope, split among five people.
Every single person got exactly twenty cents.
Not a penny more. Not a penny less.
Nanette clapped her hands and laughed. "Oh my, our luck tonight is just terrible! Not a single lucky winner!"
Nicholas chuckled along. "Guess this round's a wash, then."
I turned to my daughter in shock, but her expression was perfectly calm.
This was a lucky draw envelope—the whole point was that amounts were random. And every single person had gotten the exact same share.
Was that probability even possible?
"Something's off. I'm sending another one."
"Off? What's off?"
Arnold erupted.
"Brother-in-law, rules are rules! No lucky winner means the round is void. You don't get a do-over!"
"Where's your sportsmanship?!"
Isabel shot me an impatient look.
"Leslie, what is wrong with you tonight?"
"It was a perfectly good New Year's dinner, and you've ruined it!"
The more I thought about it, the less any of it added up. I turned to my daughter.
"Sweetheart, you send one in the group. Let's see what happens."
Isabel stepped directly in front of her, blocking her.
"Leslie, this is a game for adults. She has no business being part of it!"
My mind was a tangled mess.