The air inside the office was stale, mingling the faint scent of old carpet and burnt coffee. Evelyn Harper sat in her cubicle, staring at three computer monitors filled with financial graphs. Numbers rose and fell in erratic patterns, mocking her attempts to make sense of them.
Her brown hair was tied into a messy bun, a few rebellious strands falling against her glasses. She pushed them up her nose and bit the inside of her cheek, her fingers tapping nervously against the keyboard. Evelyn was a junior financial analyst at Redstone Investments, a job she both despised and depended on.
The world of investments was built on chaos—a high-stakes gamble where winners gloated and losers faded into irrelevance. Evelyn had always prided herself on being logical, a firm believer in data and patterns. Yet, lately, even her most calculated decisions had failed. The stock market didn't care about her formulas or careful analysis. It chewed her up and spat her out every chance it got.
Her personal life wasn't much better. A stack of unpaid bills waited for her at home, balanced precariously on the edge of her kitchen counter. Her car—a clunky sedan older than her college diploma—threatened to die every time she turned the ignition. But Evelyn had a quiet resilience. She told herself that someday, her luck would turn around.
Someday.
That thought carried her through the long hours of her shift. When the clock struck noon, Evelyn stood from her desk and grabbed her coat. The office was unusually quiet as she made her way out. Taking lunch breaks wasn't her norm, but today she needed to escape the stifling walls and oppressive fluorescent lights.
The café down the street was cozy, a haven from the chaos of downtown Chicago. Evelyn slipped into her favorite booth in the corner and pulled out a worn paperback novel, her one indulgence in an otherwise frugal life. The scent of coffee and baked bread filled the air, easing her tension.
She reached for her cup, pausing when something on the floor caught her eye. Beneath the table, nestled between the legs of her chair, was a coin.
It was unlike any coin she'd seen before—larger, with intricate patterns etched into its surface. The design was mesmerizing, a series of swirling lines that formed a symbol she couldn't place.
Evelyn picked it up and turned it over in her hand. There was an inscription around the edge, written in a language she didn't recognize. For a moment, she considered leaving it there. But curiosity won. She slipped the coin into her pocket and returned to her book.
By the time she returned to the office, the morning's tension had eased. Small, almost unnoticeable things began to happen. The coffee machine—usually a temperamental beast that churned out bitter sludge—produced a perfect cup. During a meeting, her supervisor, notorious for his harsh critiques, praised her analysis.
Walking home that evening, Evelyn narrowly avoided a traffic jam when a sudden urge made her turn down an unfamiliar side street. Each event was small, but together, they painted a picture that Evelyn couldn't ignore.
That night, the coin sat on her nightstand, catching the faint glow of the moonlight. Evelyn stared at it, her mind racing. The strange events could've been coincidences, but deep down, a small voice whispered otherwise.
The following day brought even more surprises. Her boss, usually curt and dismissive, called her into his office to commend her work. He mentioned a potential promotion, something she had given up hoping for months ago. Later, she found an envelope in her mailbox—a refund check for an overpayment on an old utility bill, enough to clear her mounting debts.
Evelyn walked home with a strange sense of lightness. It was as if a weight she hadn't realized she carried was finally lifted. She absentmindedly reached into her pocket, fingers brushing against the coin.
It was warm.
Startled, she pulled it out. The patterns etched into its surface seemed to glow faintly, pulsating like a heartbeat. Evelyn stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, her eyes locked on the coin. Then, without warning, a voice echoed in her mind.
"You've been chosen, Evelyn Harper. Luck bends to your will. Use it wisely."
The voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that sent chills down her spine. Evelyn turned in a circle, searching for its source, but the street was empty. The coin in her hand dimmed, the glow fading as quickly as it had appeared.
Evelyn stared at it, her pulse racing. Her rational mind scrambled for an explanation—a prank, perhaps? A hallucination brought on by stress?
But deep down, she knew.
Her life had just changed, though she had no idea what that would mean.