REBIRTH TO CHANGE MY FATE

3

The next morning, Jake Morrison stood before his cracked mirror, adjusting his only decent shirt for the third time. Dark circles shadowed his eyes from a restless night spent contemplating his supernatural ability. The interview at Stellar International Corporation was in two hours, and his nerves felt like live wires.

A gentle knock interrupted his preparation. Grace Chen's voice carried through the thin door.

"Jake? I brought you something for the interview."

He opened the door to find Grace holding a crisp white dress shirt and a navy tie, accompanied by a warm smile that made his chest tighten with gratitude.

"Grace, I can't accept this," Jake protested, though his eyes lingered on the quality fabric. "You've already done too much."

"Nonsense," Grace replied, pushing past him into the apartment. "You can't show up to Stellar International looking like a vagrant. My reputation is on the line too, you know."

Behind Grace, another woman appeared in the doorway—petite, with vibrant purple highlights in her black hair and multiple piercings adorning her ears. She looked Jake up and down with obvious disapproval.

"So this is the charity case you've been babying?" the woman asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Maya, be nice," Grace warned. "Jake, this is my cousin, Maya Rodriguez. She's... direct."

Maya snorted. "Direct? I'm realistic. Grace, you're wasting your time and money on this loser. Look at him—he screams 'unemployable deadbeat.'"

Jake's jaw clenched. "Nice to meet you too."

"Oh, he's got an attitude," Maya laughed mockingly. "What's next, Grace? Are you going to adopt him? Maybe tuck him in at night and read him bedtime stories?"

"That's enough," Grace said firmly. "Maya, wait in the car."

Maya rolled her eyes dramatically. "Whatever. Just don't come crying to me when he disappoints you. Guys like him always do." She turned to Jake with a cruel smirk. "Good luck with the interview, champ. Try not to drool on yourself."

After Maya left, Grace sighed heavily. "I'm sorry about her. She means well, but she's protective of me after my divorce."

"She thinks I'm a waste of space," Jake muttered, buttoning the new shirt. "Maybe she's right."

"She's wrong," Grace said with conviction. "I see something in you, Jake. Something worth investing in." She pulled out her wallet and counted out several bills. "Here's three hundred dollars for expenses—bus fare, lunch, whatever you need."

Jake stared at the money. Three hundred dollars. That's more than I've seen in months. "Grace, I can't—"

"Yes, you can. And you will pay me back when you get the job." Grace's tone brooked no argument. "I have faith in you, even if you don't have faith in yourself."

After Grace left, Jake sat on his couch, fingering the crisp bills. She trusts me with her money, her job recommendation, her reputation. And what am I? A guy who can't even keep a job at McDonald's.

But I have something now. Something that can change everything.

The lottery drawing aired every evening at seven PM on Channel 12. Jake had watched it countless times over the years, fantasizing about winning but never having money to actually play. Today felt different.

He spent the afternoon at the public library, researching lottery statistics and payout structures. The Phoenix Daily Draw offered a top prize of fifty thousand dollars—not life-changing money, but enough to pay Grace back and get his life on track.

If I can see the winning numbers, then rewind time and place the bet... it's foolproof.

At 6:45 PM, Jake positioned himself at Murphy's Corner Store, where a small television hung behind the counter. The elderly clerk, Mr. Murphy, barely glanced up from his newspaper as the evening news transitioned to the lottery segment.

"Tonight's Phoenix Daily Draw numbers are..." the announcer's voice filled the cramped store. "Seven... fifteen... twenty-three... thirty-one... and forty-two."

Jake memorized the sequence, his heart hammering with anticipation. Seven, fifteen, twenty-three, thirty-one, forty-two. Those are my numbers.

Without hesitation, he closed his eyes and focused intently. BACK.

The familiar sensation of temporal displacement washed over him. Jake found himself standing outside Murphy's Corner Store again, the clock showing 6:44 PM.

He rushed inside, pulling out a crumpled twenty-dollar bill from his wallet—money he'd been saving for bus fare.

"I need a lottery ticket," Jake announced breathlessly.

Mr. Murphy looked up with tired, rheumy eyes. "Quick pick or you got numbers?"

"I have numbers. Seven, fifteen, twenty-three, thirty-one, and forty-two."

The old man punched the numbers into the machine with arthritic fingers. "That'll be five dollars."

Jake handed over the money, his hands trembling slightly as he accepted the ticket. The small slip of paper felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

"You seem pretty confident about those numbers," Mr. Murphy observed. "Got a system?"

"Something like that," Jake replied, checking his watch. 6:57 PM. Three minutes until the drawing.

Other customers filtered into the store—a construction worker buying beer, a mother with two screaming children grabbing milk, an elderly woman counting coupons. None of them paid attention to Jake as he positioned himself near the television.

At exactly seven PM, the familiar lottery jingle filled the store. Jake's palms were slick with sweat as the announcer appeared on screen.

"Tonight's Phoenix Daily Draw numbers are..." A dramatic pause. "Seven..."

Yes.

"Fifteen..."

Come on.

"Twenty-three..."

Jake's breathing became shallow. This is really happening.

"Thirty-one..."

One more number.

"And tonight's final number is... forty-two!"

The store erupted in shocked silence. Mr. Murphy's newspaper fell to the floor as he stared at Jake, then at the television, then back at Jake.

"Son of a bitch," the old man whispered. "You just won fifty thousand dollars."

Jake looked down at his ticket, the numbers matching perfectly with those displayed on screen. His legs felt like jelly as the magnitude of his success hit him.

I actually did it. I beat the system. I changed my fate.

The construction worker turned around, squinting at Jake with suspicious eyes. "That's one hell of a coincidence, buddy. You sure you didn't know something?"

"Just lucky, I guess," Jake managed, his voice barely steady.

"Lucky my ass," the worker muttered. "Nobody's that lucky."

Jake pocketed the ticket quickly, his mind racing. Fifty thousand dollars. Enough to pay Grace back, get a decent apartment, maybe even start over somewhere else.