Congratulations, Mrs. Williams,” said Janet Patterson, the claims officer at the sterile government lottery office. “After taxes, your lump sum comes to thirty-eight point four million dollars.”

I nodded politely, but my mind was already made up. I’d had four sleepless nights to plan. Overwhelming wasn’t the word I’d use. Liberating was more accurate.

My first stop was Westfield Financial to open accounts. My second was Henderson Real Estate. “The oceanfront property on Lighthouse Drive,” I told the agent, Beverly.

She raised her eyebrows. “Mrs. Williams, that’s a very expensive piece of real estate. The asking price is two-point-eight million.”

“I’d like to see it today, if possible.” Her demeanor shifted when I mentioned I was a cash buyer.

The house was everything I’d dreamed of during those years of penny-pinching: a sprawling contemporary home with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Atlantic. “I’ll take it,” I said, standing on the deck, listening to the waves crash below. “Full asking price.”