Betting My Next Life

The God of Wealth statue spoke up from the altar table just as my turn came and I was about to lay down my three twos. [Don't. The other side's got three aces.

The second you show your cards, it isn't money you lose. It's thirty whole years of your life.] "Come on, place your bet!" Mom laughed, urging me to show my cards.

On the night of the MidAutumn Festival, Mom, who had always hated card games, had suddenly rounded up the whole family for a game of Golden Flower, a kind of Chinese threecard poker.

I thought I'd heard wrong about that voice from the altar, but it burrowed into my head again. [Silly girl, still grinning away.

You've walked straight into a trap and you don't even know it.] [Your mom is waiting on what's at that table so she can come back from the dead in a borrowed body.] Chapter 1 My head buzzed, and the hand holding my cards froze in midair.

I looked up at Mom. She was smiling gently. "What's wrong, sweetie? Come on, bet!" I stared at her face for several seconds and couldn't find a single thing off about it.

I turned and glanced at Dad and my brother. They were absorbed in their own cards, as if they'd never heard a thing. I was confused. Had I stayed up so late I was hearing things?

Just then, my brother kicked the table leg, his face full of impatience. "Sabrina, if you're not betting, fold. Shit or get off the pot." I snorted. "What's the rush?

You trying to hurry me into my grave?" But my hand drew back on its own anyway, and I cast a look at the God of Wealth statue on the TV stand.

I'd brought it home the year before last, after making a special trip to a temple in Chinatown to have a master consecrate it.

Its gold paint gleamed, and its face was kind and benevolent. In the end, without quite knowing why, I folded.

But I noticed that the instant I folded, the smile on Mom's face visibly sagged. My heart clenched hard. No way. On a holiday, of all nights, had I actually run into a ghost?

The two things the God of Wealth had just said surfaced in my mind at once: [Show those trips, and you lose thirty whole years of your life.] [Your mom is waiting on it so she can come back in a borrowed body.] My throat tightened.

I tried to keep my voice natural. "Mom, are you okay?" Mom shook her head, and her expression went right back to normal. "Of course. What could be wrong with me?

This light's just too bright." With that, she lowered her head and started reshuffling.

But my nerves were already stretched to the breaking point, and the longer I looked, the more everything felt wrong. Since when did she shuffle this smoothly?

Last Lunar New Year, when she played Fight the Landlord with the relatives, she couldn't even draw her cards without making a mess. Now her shuffling looked downright professional.

Then those things I'd read online came buzzing back into my head—how anyone possessed by a ghost gives off no warmth, no body heat. I used to laugh off posts like that.

Now I clung to the idea like a lifeline. I swallowed, gave myself a silent pep talk, and said, "Mom, I think you've got something on your neck." She looked up at me.

Her eyes were a little too bright under the lamp. "Got what?" I set my cards down on the table. The second my fingers touched the back of her neck, my heart stopped.

But the next moment, what I felt under my fingertips was warm. I froze for a beat, then pressed down a little harder.

Under her skin, a pulse was beating—thump, thump, one after another. Mom tilted her head and laughed at me. "Find it?

What is it, anyway?" I let out a breath, pulled my hand back, and forced a smile. "Nothing. A gray hair.

I pulled it out for you." She swatted the back of my hand. "Always fussing over nothing. Sit down and play." I went back to my chair, my knees weak. I looked down at my hand.

That warmth still lingered on my fingertips. Chapter 2 I quietly let out a breath. It had to be all those murder mystery party games—I'd been imagining things and scaring myself.

I got my cards back in hand and was about to say something.

Suddenly, the statue spoke again: [Silly girl, you've already been dragged into a ghost realm.] [Everything here looks just like the outside world.] [But every year of life you lose here shows up in the real world.] The chill that had only just drained out of my back shot straight up to the crown of my head again.

What was that supposed to mean?!

I clutched my cards, not daring to move—then realized the paper in my hand was suddenly thicker than before, the edges worn fuzzy, rasping as my fingertips brushed over them. "Sabrina, what are you spacing out for?" My brother's voice drifted over from across the table.

I didn't dare look at him. I forced myself to flip the cards over. The light of a kerosene lamp fell on them, dim and yellow. Only then did it hit me that something was wrong.

Didn't we have electricity? Why was there a kerosene lamp? And the cards didn't feel right, either. A faint smell of rust kept drifting into my nose.

When I looked closer, I saw the faces of the cards were faintly stained a dark red, like bloodstains that had dried long ago.

My hand went slack, and the cards slapped onto the table. The three people in the living room all stopped at once and turned to look at me.

Then Mom spoke, her voice soft and gentle. "Sweetie, what's the matter?" My tongue went stiff in my mouth. I couldn't get out a single word.

I took a deep breath and bit my tongue. "Nothing. I'm just a little sleepy." She didn't think much of it and went back to her cards. But I clenched my fists.

More and more, I believed what the God of Wealth had said. Dad and my brother, though, were both still in the dark. No matter what, I had to find a way to get them out with me.

I cleared my throat and pushed myself up from the table. "Mom, I'm a little dizzy.

I think I'll go to bed." The words were barely out before my brother scoffed. "Sabrina, what's with you today?

At dinner you said we'd play all night, and you're chickening out after a few hands?" Dad, for once, looked up at me. "It's not easy getting the whole family together.

Play a little longer." Mom reached over and took my wrist.

That warm palm pressed against me again, but this time, instead of reassuring me, it made the chill down my spine even colder. "Exactly. We haven't even cut the mooncakes yet.

What are you going to bed for?

Two more rounds." Under the kerosene lamp, the three of them turned their faces up to me in unison, the smiles on all three faces curved at exactly the same angle.

My mind exploded into a tangled mess. "I said I don't feel well!" My voice shot up, my throat tight and aching. "None of you care about me.

I told you I'm dizzy and you still want me to play? Forget the cards!" My brother rolled his eyes. "Can't you just tough it out?

You binge shows till three in the morning and you're fine." "If you're scared of losing money, I'll cover you later." That sent my temper through the roof.

I didn't even care about being scared anymore. I shoved my chair back. "Since you put it that way, I'm really not playing!" "You want to play, play by yourselves.

I'll get myself to the hospital!" With that, I turned and headed for the door. Stupid fucking idiot! Normally messing around with him was just a game.

But this time, we were literally betting our lives! Once I got out, I was going to make him pay for this! With that thought, I didn't even stop to change my shoes.

I was ready to run straight out. "Sabrina!" Chapter 3 Three voices rang out behind me at once, like vengeful ghosts come to claim a life.

That scared me even more, and made me even more determined to get out. My fingers rested on the doorknob, and cold seeped out of the metal and straight into my bones.

Just as I was about to open it, the God of Wealth's voice came again: [Silly girl, you can't leave.] [The door of this ghost realm opens from the outside.

Take one step out, and your soul scatters into the void.] I stood frozen. Leaving meant death. Staying meant death… So what was I supposed to do? Footsteps came from behind me.

My brother slapped my shoulder impatiently. "Okay, okay, you win." "Come on.

I'll take you to your room and we'll find you some medicine." He dragged me back, pushed me into the bedroom, and pulled the door shut behind us. "Sabrina, you noticed something's off too, right?" I startled and turned to look at him.

All the slacker attitude was gone from his face. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and a thin film of sweat on his forehead gleamed in the dark.

My heart leaped, but I kept my voice low. "You noticed too?!" My brother sighed and said slowly, "The second she started pushing for a card game, I knew something was off.

Mom hates gambling more than anything, and out of nowhere she wants to play Golden Flower?

And…" He leaned in closer, his voice trembling a little. "I noticed she doesn't have a shadow when she stands up…" The chill shot right up my back, and I said, worried, "Then what about Dad?

He's still in the dark." My brother was silent for a moment.

He lowered his head. "Dad… Dad's already not right." "When you came in, he was sitting on the couch looking at his phone, right?" "But did you notice what he was looking at?

The screen was black. He spent half an hour scrolling a black screen." My heart sank. "So Dad's also…" My brother's voice was as thin as a mosquito's whine. "Yeah.

A ghost realm like this takes at least two big ghosts opening it together. Dad's probably not Dad anymore.

A ghost must've taken over his body, same as Mom, and the two of us are their next targets." From outside the bedroom came Mom's voice, drifting and hollow. "How long does it take you two to find medicine?

Get out here." My brother quickly grabbed my hand, his palm burning hot. "Sabrina, there's only one way out of this ghost realm." "We win every last underworld year they've stockpiled right off the table, and the whole illusion caves in on its own.

You feed me cards. As long as we keep control of the table between the two of us, they never get a chance to win our years." I nodded hard.

My brother pushed the bedroom door open, and we walked back into the living room, one behind the other.

Under the kerosene lamp, Mom and Dad sat side by side, their faces cut into halves of light and dark by the dim glow.

The smiles hanging at the corners of their mouths were creepy just to look at. We sat down, and the game started again.

With me feeding my brother cards, the chips we won kept piling higher, and even the kerosene flame seemed to dance a little more cheerfully.

The breath I'd been holding slowly eased out of me, and I glanced at Mom. Her head was down as she sorted her cards.

I couldn't see her expression, but the knuckles pinching her cards had gone bluishwhite, her nails nearly digging into them.

Just as I was starting to feel smug, the God of Wealth's voice suddenly shot up, so shrill my scalp prickled. [This