From a Trip to a Toy

At the company's annual dinner, I win a three-day trip to the Marosa worth 50 thousand dollars.

But when I go to claim the prize, the person in charge stuffs a cheap stuffed toy into my hands instead.

The price tag shows that it is worth five dollars.

At the same time, the intern, Katie Thorpe, suddenly cries out in surprise, "A three-day trip to Marosa? I'm so incredibly lucky!"

I step forward to question them, but the organizer blocks my way.

"Katie is Mr. Cosby's girlfriend. This prize has already been decided in advance. I suggest you do not make trouble."

She looks me up and down mockingly and says, "If you anger Mr. Cosby, you better watch out. You'll lose your job in this company."

Not only am I not afraid, I am even tempted to laugh in her face.

I immediately make a phone call. "Grandpa, I have made up my mind. I do not want to keep struggling alongside Vincent Cosby anymore. The wedding is canceled. Withdraw your investment from his company."

At the annual party, the organizer held a raffle box and let us draw lots one by one. Watching the company prosper made me incredibly proud.

I casually unfolded the paper and couldn't believe my luck. I won the grand prize—a three-day trip to Marosa!

I could either get reimbursed for the trip afterward or have 50 thousand dollars added to my paycheck.

To support Vincent Cosby's startup, I hadn't even asked my family for a single cent all year. 50 thousand dollars was certainly no small sum to me.

Smiling, the emcee held up the microphone and said, "Next, please come onstage and claim your prizes according to your numbers."

The first few prizes were nothing special.

"36."

Finally, it was my turn. I was thrilled inside, already planning my upcoming vacation.

I handed the slip of paper to the emcee. For some reason, her smile seemed to grow wider.

"Congratulations, Harriet Underwood! You've won a horse plushie. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth!"

Startled, I froze in place.

A hint of impatience flickered across the emcee's face. She shoved the plushie into my arms and forced me offstage.

The cheap plushie in my hands felt rough to the touch, and the price tag hanging on its back still read five dollars.

I recalled what was written on the slip earlier and knew I hadn't misread it. I was about to go onstage to explain when thunderous applause broke out across the hall.

"Congratulations, Katie Thorpe! You've won first prize this year—a three-day trip to Marosa!"

Katie Thorpe covered her mouth in shock.

Many colleagues looked at her enviously. "She just started her internship and already won first prize. She's so lucky."

"She hasn't even been here a few days. Why can't I be that lucky too?"

I hurried onstage and grabbed the organizer, whispering, "Could you be mistaken? The first-prize slip is mine, not Katie's."

But the organizer refused to