x
As they all rushed into the kitchen, they found Grandma gripping the phone so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Her face was a mask of barely contained fury.
"What the hell has gotten into you, Joe?! Come back home RIGHT NOW!" she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel.
Grandpa stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "What's happening?"
Grandma exhaled through her nose, trying to keep her composure. "He's at the damn casino and just lost a quarter of our winnings. $25,000-GONE." With a scowl, she jabbed the speaker button, and Uncle Joe's voice blared through the room.
"Hey now! I won three grand back!! Just trust me, that was just a hiccup-one little setback. The genie magic's about to kick in, and we'll win back everything double!"
"There is no genie luck," a voice cut through the tension.
They all whirled around, gasping as a familiar blue head poked through the wall, grinning mischievously.
Grandma clutched her chest. "Lord have mercy, don't do that!"
Uncle Joe, oblivious to their reaction, continued on the phone, his voice brimming with delusional excitement. "No, I feel it! I'm on the way to the big leagues!"
The genie sighed dramatically. "Joe, I assure you, whatever you're feeling has nothing to do with me. I don't bring any inherent luck unless it's wished for... which Emily did not."
A tense silence filled the kitchen.
Grandma took a deep breath, pressing her fingers against her temple before speaking again-this time, carefully choosing her words. "Joe, just think for a second. Why risk everything at a casino when we could invest what we have left? Imagine the real money we could make with smart investments. Then-then you can try your luck all you want."
Uncle Joe hesitated. "...Go on."
"You're playing small," Grandma continued smoothly. "One hundred grand is nothing in the stock market. If we put it in the right places, we could triple it. And then, then, once we're rolling in even more money, then you can gamble with extra cash-not the only winnings we have."
A pause. Then, finally-
"...You know what, Kathy? You make a damn good point. Alright, alright, I'm coming back! I'll invest first, then I'll gamble."
Before anyone could celebrate, the line went dead.
Grandma slammed the phone down with a sigh. "Lord help us all."
The silence that followed Grandma's final words was thick as smoke. No one moved. No one breathed. The tension pressed down on the kitchen like a ceiling about to cave in.
Emily's mother was the first to break. "So now he's gambling." she said slowly, her voice barely above a whisper-but sharp enough to draw blood. "He lost twenty-five thousand dollars. And he's going back."
"Technically," Emily muttered, arms crossed, "he won some of it back."
Her mother spun toward her like a whip. "This is exactly what I warned you about."
Emily's voice rose, hot and defensive. "But we're still rich! That was just a little mistake!"
"A little mistake?" her mother echoed, incredulous. "You think the devil gives gifts for free? That money came from evil, Emily. Nothing good will come from it."
"It's not from the devil!" Emily shouted, fists clenched. "It's a genie!"
Her mother's eyes flashed. "And what do you think that is? A servant of God?! It's unnatural. It's from darkness. I don't want his wishes. I don't want his money. I want him GONE."
Grandma raised a hand. "Let's not do this again now."
But Emily's mother wasn't listening. Her voice cracked under the weight of her fury. "This isn't just about money. This is about our souls. You've brought something into this house that does not belong. And you're all standing around wondering if we should keep the money-as if that's the real problem."
Emily stood straighter. "You're just mad because I didn't listen to you."
"I'm mad," her mother said through gritted teeth, "because you opened a door we may never be able to close."
The genie's head popped lazily through the wall, grinning. "Hey, technically she opened a lamp."
Grandma nearly jumped out of her skin. "Lord have mercy, don't do that!"
The rest of the family gasped.
"Anyway," the genie added, waving a dismissive hand, "just reiterating-Joe's not operating under any genie luck. He's just... dumb."
There was a pause, heavy and sour.
Grandma pinched the bridge of her nose. "I swear I'm gonna have a stroke."
Then the front door creaked.
A car door slammed. Footsteps approached the porch.
The door opened, and Uncle Joe stumbled inside, grinning like a preacher who'd just seen God at the slot machine. "I'm BACK, baby!" he announced, arms wide.
Everyone stared.
Grandma folded her arms. "You lost twenty-five thousand dollars."
Joe blinked. "Well... yeah, technically. But! I got it all figured out now-"
"You've got nothing figured out," Emily's mother snapped, her voice trembling. "You're feeding off something that was never meant to be in this house. I don't care if you win or lose-it's tainted."
Joe squinted at her. "You'd rather stay poor?"
"I'd rather stay righteous," she hissed. "Better broke and holy than rich and damned."
"Damn," the genie said, impressed, still peeking through the ceiling.
"No, don't say a word," Grandma muttered automatically, crossing herself.
Uncle Joe took a hesitant step forward. "C'mon, Jane... you're telling me you wouldn't like just a little slice of the good life?"
She glared at him with eyes like fire. "Not if it comes from that thing. This house will never be clean until it's gone."
A deep, quiet dread fell over the kitchen. Emily shifted uncomfortably. Joe scratched his head. Even the genie stayed quiet.
Then Lily muttered under her breath, "So... are we still rich?"
And Sarah, wide-eyed, whispered, "Or cursed?"
The question hung there, unanswered.
The tension hadn't gone anywhere.
Uncle Joe slumped into a chair, unbothered by the heavy silence hanging around him like smoke. "I mean, Kathy's right. If we play this smart, this money could turn into real money. We're talkin' legacy money. Names-on-buildings money."
Emily's mom snapped her head toward him. "You mean the devil's money."
He groaned, rubbing his face. "You're still on that?"
Grandpa raised a hand. "Enough. We can't keep going in circles. We won the lottery. That's fact. Now we've got a choice: take what's left, invest it, and see if the genie's telling the truth... or walk away."
"I vote we walk," Emily's mom said immediately.
"I vote we invest," Uncle Joe countered, already scrolling through a financial site on the family computer. "I'll even do it tomorrow morning."
"Wait a second." Lily narrowed her eyes. "If he's addicted, should we really let him be the one in charge of investing it?"
"He's the only one with a brokerage account," Grandpa muttered, sounding deeply annoyed by that truth.
"Then make one," Lily argued.
"That takes time," Joe said, waving her off. "And the genie said the timing's important."
"I still don't trust it," Sarah said.
Emily finally spoke up from the stairwell. "If you don't do it, I will." Her voice was steady now, almost cold. "I made the wish. I already opened the door."
Grandma let out a long sigh. "Whether we like it or not, we're in this now."
Emily's mom's lips trembled. "No. I don't accept that. We can still void the wish-just break one of the rules and end it all."
The genie, still floating silently nearby, raised a finger and wiggled it with amusement. "But then... no money, and memory wipe. I'm just sayin'."
No one laughed.
Grandpa rubbed his temples. "Joe. Tomorrow, you invest exactly what Anu told us, and nothing else. And then you come home. You hear me?"
Joe stood up, squaring his shoulders. "I'll do it first thing in the morning."
Emily nodded slowly, her eyes burning with quiet victory. "Good."
Her mother stared at her with something between heartbreak and anger.
"I can't believe what you've done." she asked.
Emily didn't reply.
The Next Morning
The house was quiet, but no one was sleeping.
Uncle Joe had left at sunrise, dressed like he was heading to Wall Street itself-collared shirt, slicked-back hair, and a dollar-store tie hanging crooked around his neck. Emily watched him from the window as he climbed into his dented pickup and sped off down the gravel driveway, kicking up dust like a man with purpose.
By mid-morning, he returned.
Emily rushed to the door before he even got a chance to knock.
"Well?" she asked.
Joe grinned, holding up his receipts. "Done. All three stocks. Every cent that was left is invested. And I didn't gamble a dime, thank you very much."
"YES!" Emily pumped her fists, already imagining gold statues, butlers, a swimming pool shaped like her own face-
"Alright, calm down," Grandma said as the others gathered in the living room. "We still gotta wait over a month to see if the genie was telling the truth."
"He was," Emily said. "The lottery already came true."
"That doesn't prove he's good," her mother muttered, arms folded tight. "A cursed coin still buys bread."
Uncle Joe dropped onto the couch. "Relax. We're just... waiting now, right?"
"You make it sound easy," Lily muttered.
"Because it is," Joe said, then turned to Emily with a proud grin. "You did good, kid."
Emily beamed. For once, someone was on her side.
Until-
"But it still doesn't mean we should make another wish," Lilly added. "You got what you asked for. No need to press your luck."
Emily's smile dimmed slightly.
"Exactly," her mother cut in. "Don't let greed rot your heart, Emily. That's how it starts. Next thing you know, we'll all be lost."
"Oh my gosh," Emily snapped. "Would everyone just stop treating me like I'm the problem?! I made ONE wish! It came true! And now you're all ruining it!"
Her mother's eyes narrowed. "The devil grants wishes too."
Emily felt the heat rush to her cheeks. "You're not even happy! None of you are! I wish I'd never told you about the lamp!"
And with that, she bolted up the stairs, ignoring the voices calling her back.
The genie was already waiting when she slammed the door.
"Rough morning?" he said casually, floating upside down and slowly rotating like a lazy balloon.
"They're so stupid!" Emily yelled, collapsing onto her bed. "Even Grandpa told me actions speak louder than words, but when I take action, I'm the villain."
Anu gave a slow nod, sympathetic. "It's hard being the only one with vision. They never see it until it's too late."
Emily sighed deeply. "They don't want me to make another wish."
"Well," Anu said, spinning upright, "that's the good thing about being the one who found the lamp. They don't get to decide. Only you do."
She sat in silence for a moment, curling her knees to her chest.
Anu floated beside her, arms folded thoughtfully. "You ever think about wishing for something just... for you? Something fun. No pressure. No drama. Just... joy."
Emily tilted her head. "Like what?"
"Like a day away from all this," he said. "Where nobody's yelling, nobody's judging, and everyone's happy."
She looked down at her lap, biting her lip.
Then, she remembered something.
Grandpa's voice. That story he told sitting in the the rocking chair.
"The eighties... Hair was big, music was loud, and clothing? Not for the faint of heart..."
Emily's eyes lit up. "I wanna go to the eighties."
Anu blinked. "The eighties?"
"Yeah," she said, sitting up straighter now. "I want to go back in time. To the 1980s. Just me and Grandpa. I want him to show me everything. The hair, the music, the neon socks-all of it."
Anu's smile widened like the grin of a game show host. "Now that's a fun wish."
"So... can I?"
Anu stretched his fingers and cracked his knuckles with an electric little spark. "Of course. It'll be temporary. You'll spend a day there. No timeline disruption, no butterfly effects. Just you, Grandpa, and the wildest decade of them all. I actually wouldn't mind seeing it myself. Nobody found a lamp in that era, and I missed that decade."
Emily stood up, heart pounding. "Then I wish it."
Anu bowed low, his hands glowing with energy. "As you wish..."
A swirl of smoke curled up from the floor, golden sparks dancing in the air.
Emily gasped as the room around her began to melt and shift-turning blue and purple with flickers of neon light. The wallpaper peeled back into wild geometric patterns. The sound of synth music filled the air.
The floor vanished beneath her feet.
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And then, she was gone.
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