"The lottery is a fickle mistress, Maya," Leo joked, though his thumb hovered nervously over the refresh button.

"We're going," Leo grinned, tucking his phone away. "Rule number one of New York, kid: the best place to buy a ticket isn't a building. It's wherever luck meets a little bit of local knowledge."

The neon of Times Square pulsed like a frantic heartbeat, but Leo wasn't looking at the billboards. He was looking at his phone, watching the digital countdown of a virtual waiting room. Beside him, his niece, Maya, bounced on her heels.