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I bought a lottery ticket for my husband's parents and mistyped two numbers. They called me a troublemaker, accusing me of ruining the family's chance at sudden wealth. My husband sided with them. In a moment of rage, he shoved me down the stairs, shattering my leg. The next day, the results were announced. The wrong ticket I bought hit the jackpot, worth millions. They took the prize without a shred of guilt. Then they locked me, disabled and helpless, in a basement, left to fend for myself. However, a brutal ice apocalypse descended overnight. For three months, the planet froze solid. Trapped underground, I froze to death alone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment of buying the ticket. This time, I would sit by the fire, grill my food, and watch them lose heat, slowly and painfully, until the cold claimed them all.