One Last Bet

One Last Bet

Gavin

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The roar of the South Philly sports bar was music to my ears, the cheers for my "Oracle" predictions ringing hollow as I saw the smiling faces of my childhood friends. Just one week from now, in a life I' d already lived, these same friends would lose everything on my predictions and leave me for dead in a dirty alley. They' d blame me, screaming King K, the flashy influencer, had called it an hour before I did, beating me until I stopped moving. Now they pressed me for more "sure things," their greed a mask over the rage I knew was coming, their loyalty as thin as their winnings. Then my Uncle Leo, the only family I had, intervened, pulling the "exhausted niece" card, a gesture that filled me with relief, even as I felt a pang of guilt for my coldness. But relief turned to dread when he revealed his "heart condition" and a staggering medical bill, claiming he' d lost all our savings on a "bad tip"-a lie designed to force one last, massive prediction from me. The betrayal of my previous life faded into the background, eclipsed by the desperate reality of his illness, trapping me into playing the Oracle again. I poured my soul into the data, finding a perfect, obscure rookie bet, only to see King K post the exact same pick minutes later, confirming a sickening truth: Uncle Leo was leaking my intel. My blood ran cold when I found the unique Eagles watch I' d given my uncle on King K' s wrist in an old photo, realizing my uncle was not only feeding my analysis to his secret boyfriend but was systematically destroying my reputation to build King K' s brand. The pieces clicked: it was always planned. But this time, I was ready. I cashed out my winning soccer bets (which King K had predictably tried to steal credit for, missing my trap bet entirely), and used every dime on one final, impossible gamble: the "unbeatable" NFL team would lose after their star quarterback suffered a season-ending injury in the first quarter-an event I remembered with horrifying clarity from my past life. I packed a bag, ready to watch King K, Uncle Leo, and every single soul who had called me a fraud, who had plotted my demise, lose everything and face the loan sharks I knew would be coming.

Introduction

The roar of the South Philly sports bar was music to my ears, the cheers for my "Oracle" predictions ringing hollow as I saw the smiling faces of my childhood friends.

Just one week from now, in a life I' d already lived, these same friends would lose everything on my predictions and leave me for dead in a dirty alley.

They' d blame me, screaming King K, the flashy influencer, had called it an hour before I did, beating me until I stopped moving.

Now they pressed me for more "sure things," their greed a mask over the rage I knew was coming, their loyalty as thin as their winnings.

Then my Uncle Leo, the only family I had, intervened, pulling the "exhausted niece" card, a gesture that filled me with relief, even as I felt a pang of guilt for my coldness.

But relief turned to dread when he revealed his "heart condition" and a staggering medical bill, claiming he' d lost all our savings on a "bad tip"-a lie designed to force one last, massive prediction from me.

The betrayal of my previous life faded into the background, eclipsed by the desperate reality of his illness, trapping me into playing the Oracle again.

I poured my soul into the data, finding a perfect, obscure rookie bet, only to see King K post the exact same pick minutes later, confirming a sickening truth: Uncle Leo was leaking my intel.

My blood ran cold when I found the unique Eagles watch I' d given my uncle on King K' s wrist in an old photo, realizing my uncle was not only feeding my analysis to his secret boyfriend but was systematically destroying my reputation to build King K' s brand.

The pieces clicked: it was always planned.

But this time, I was ready.

I cashed out my winning soccer bets (which King K had predictably tried to steal credit for, missing my trap bet entirely), and used every dime on one final, impossible gamble: the "unbeatable" NFL team would lose after their star quarterback suffered a season-ending injury in the first quarter-an event I remembered with horrifying clarity from my past life.

I packed a bag, ready to watch King K, Uncle Leo, and every single soul who had called me a fraud, who had plotted my demise, lose everything and face the loan sharks I knew would be coming.

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