The Next Day: January 8th 1985,
The Morning After – Plans and Possibilities
The next morning, the apartment was unusually quiet.
The entire Williams family had gathered around the kitchen table, steaming mugs of tea and coffee in hand—save for Alex, who nursed a glass of orange juice and looked more alert than anyone else.
Oliver sat at the head of the table, arms crossed, the manila envelope with the lottery tickets resting in front of him like a loaded weapon.
"I called in sick today," he began. "Martha's staying home too. We need to figure this out—quietly."
Martha nodded, her usually bright features drawn with concern. "I'll call my sister-in-law. She knows someone who specializes in financial planning. Someone we can trust. We need to move carefully."
Ashley leaned forward, hair tied up in a messy bun, notebook in hand. "We're going to need a lawyer. Maybe more than one. A financial advisor. A tax consultant. And someone to help us set up—like—a trust, maybe?"
"You've been researching?" Jennifer asked, raising a brow.
"I was up till 3 a.m.," Ashley replied.
Duke, arms folded across his chest, glanced toward the envelope. "What happens when we cash them? I mean, it won't be anonymous, right? What about things, like... taxes and stuff? Won't the government take half of it?"
"Depends on the state," Oliver replied. "And yes, the government takes half. That's why we're bringing in David first. He'll help us set up the right structures—an LLC, or a blind trust maybe. Something that keeps our names out of the papers."
"No pictures. No interviews. No one from school, church, or anywhere hears about this," Martha said again, more firmly this time.
Jennifer raised an eyebrow. "Church?"
"Hypothetically," Martha muttered. "We're still going."
Ashley leaned forward, brow furrowed. "Are we going to move? Buy a new house?"
Oliver exchanged a look with Martha. "Not yet. That's the kind of thing that makes noise. We don't need noise."
"We lay low, for now at least. " Martha agreed. "Pay off the debts, help where we can. But no flashing cash. We survived sixteen with nothing but a couple of backpacks and a baby—we know how fast people change when they think you've got money."
Alex had been quiet this whole time, sipping from a glass of orange juice, eyes flicking from speaker to speaker with keen interest.
Martha looked at her children, her voice gentle but firm. "Until we have a plan, you all keep this a secret. Not a word to anyone at school, church, or online. Understand?"
The kids nodded—some more reluctantly than others.
Jennifer frowned. "What about our lives? School, friends… everything is going to feel different now."
"We don't let it change us," Oliver said, voice steady. "The money's a blessing, but it's not a pass to stop being decent people. We don't flaunt it. We don't brag. We protect each other."
All eyes turned to Alex, who had been unusually quiet for once.
He met their stares calmly. "I understand. I wasn't going to tell anyone anyway."
"Good," Martha said, although her gaze lingered on him longer than necessary.
She still wasn't sure who this boy was—not exactly. He looked like Alex. He sounded like Alex. But there was something in his eyes. Confidence. Focus. Purpose. It was uncanny.
Oliver tapped the envelope. "We confirm everything today. One of the tickets is small enough to claim without too much fuss. We'll use that as a test. The other—we play our cards right, and it sets us up for life."
"Can we use part of the money to help Grandpa Fred and Grandma Francine?" Alex asked.
Martha's heart softened instantly. "Of course we can."
"Then I want to," he said simply. "They looked after me. They deserve to have less to worry about."
Ashley smiled. "You know, I like this new version of you."
Duke snorted. "Yeah. Still weird though."
Jennifer just sipped her tea, quietly watching Alex with the same curiosity and caution as their parents.
There was a long pause.
Duke leaned his elbows on the table. "So we wait for Uncle David, then what?"
"We see what our options are," Oliver said. "We'll probably cash in the smaller ticket first. Quietly. If that works, we go from there."
Jennifer narrowed her eyes at Alex. "You never said how you picked those numbers."
Alex met her gaze calmly. "I just had a feeling."
Oliver's expression tightened. Not angry—just uncertain. Like he wanted to ask more but didn't know how.
"Alright," he said instead, standing. "I'll call David this morning. No one goes anywhere until we know what we're doing. You hear me?"
Everyone nodded.
Martha picked up the envelope and placed it into a metal lockbox, sliding it into the back of the pantry behind cans of soup. "Until then, we act like nothing's changed."
"Except everything has," Ashley whispered under her breath.
No one disagreed.
Minutes Later.
Oliver stood near the corded wall phone. He had already downed two cups of coffee, but the nervous tension still hung on his shoulders like a wet coat.
He glanced toward the hallway where the kids were playing a board game with Alex, then back toward the pantry door, behind which the metal lockbox—and the winning tickets—were safely hidden.
He took a breath and dialed the number.
The line rang twice before a familiar, steady voice picked up. "David Henry."
"David, it's Oliver. Got a minute?"
"Ollie! Man. I've been meaning to call you. How's the family? Everything alright with Alex?"
Oliver hesitated. "Yeah. Well—not exactly. Something came up. And I need your help. Legal help."
David's tone shifted instantly, sharp and professional. "Talk to me."
"We hit the lottery."
"...You what?"
"Won. Not a joke. Two winning tickets. One for $250,000. Another for five million."
There was a long pause on the line.
"Damn, Oliver. Are you serious?"
"I wouldn't call if I wasn't. I need you to come by. We want to handle this quietly. Legally. And we trust you."
David exhaled a low whistle. "You did say you wanted to retire early if possible. Alright, I'm moving some things around. I'll be there in an hour or so."
"Bring whatever paperwork or prep we might need. And David... no one else. Not yet."
"Understood. See you soon."
Oliver hung up the phone, feeling the first real wave of relief since last night. David wasn't just any lawyer—he was family. He had stood beside Oliver and Martha when no one else had, even after their own parents had turned their backs.
He turned to Martha, who was watching from the doorway. "His own his way. He'll help us figure this out."
She nodded and walked over to him, slipping her hand into his. "Good. One step at a time."
Together, they returned to the kitchen, where the scent of toast and laughter filled the air—a quiet calm before the storm of decisions that lay ahead.
An hour after Oliver's call, a familiar knock echoed at the front door. Martha opened it to find David standing tall in a sharp charcoal blazer, a messenger bag slung over one shoulder and a steaming coffee in hand. Behind him stood a slightly younger man, neatly dressed in a gray three-piece suit and carrying a slim leather briefcase.
"Uncle David!" Ashley called from the couch, instantly rising to greet him. Duke and Jennifer followed suit, and even Alex brightened at the sight of the man, rushing over with a grin.
David pulled Alex into a brief hug, ruffling his hair. "You're looking sharper every time I see you, kid. Keep this up and I'll have to start charging you for compliments."
Alex chuckled. "Only if you're cheaper than therapy."
David laughed before turning toward Martha and Oliver, his expression sobering slightly. "Alright," he said, "I came as quickly as I could. This is Tom Ellison, one of my firm's best financial advisors. Quiet, discreet, and damn good at his job."
"Pleasure to meet you both," Tom said with a courteous nod. "I've been fully briefed. We'll handle this smart."
Martha waved them in, and soon the family of six, along with David and Tom, gathered around the kitchen table, now cleared of everything but notepads and coffee mugs.
David sat down, pulling out a slim file folder from his bag and placing it on the table. "Okay. First things first—do not go to the lottery office until we have everything lined up. This kind of sudden windfall can cause waves. And I mean tsunamis, not ripples."
"Trust me, we know," Oliver said, rubbing his temples. "The kids are excited, but Martha and I have been through enough to know how fast something like this can turn sour."
David nodded. "Exactly why we're here. Now, I want to lay out a step-by-step plan so you can claim these winnings discreetly, protect yourselves legally and financially, and avoid every leech, reporter, and long-lost relative that might come crawling out of the woodwork."
Oliver and David both glanced over at Martha, whose eye twitched at their actions.
Unlike her husband who came from a wealthy family background, before he was cut off after choosing to stay by her side and their unborn twins at the times. She came from a humble lower class family, not mention the fact that Oliver family was all the way across the ocean.
Hence that last statement was true, but also currently only applied to her.
Tom opened his briefcase and began arranging documents, charts, and a few blank forms. "The good news is, lottery laws in this state allow for anonymity in certain cases—if we claim through a trust or legal entity. That's going to be our first move."
David continued, "Oliver, we'll create a holding trust—quiet and airtight. You and Martha will be listed as co-trustees, but I'll help you assign a proxy to actually appear when the check is handed over. No press, no names on record, no unnecessary exposure."
"What about taxes?" Martha asked, her voice calm but firm.
Tom replied, "A sizable portion will go to federal and state taxes, of course, but we can manage the rest to ensure you retain long-term value. The key is smart allocation. Once the money clears, we'll help you break it into diversified holdings—some liquid, some long-term."
Jennifer blinked. "Wait—so this is like... hiding in plain sight?"
"Exactly," David said. "You'll live well, but quietly. Think secure investments, maybe a new home down the line oce everything is finalized, private schooling if you want it. But no sudden Lamborghinis or gold chains."
Ashley laughed, "Darn. I already had the tiara picked out."
"Get a chocolate one. Less taxes," David quipped, smirking.
Martha reached across the table and squeezed Oliver's hand. "So when can we start?"
David leaned back, confident. "We already have."
Tom slid a few documents across the table. "We'll need signatures from both of you to begin drafting the trust. After that, I'll set up an appointment at the claims office using the proxy. We'll move fast but carefully."
As pens met paper, the Williams family—who'd once been scraping by month to month—began the first steps of transforming their future.
" Oh, and another thing," Tom spoke out recalling another matter. Grabbing everyone's attention in the room.
He continued, "May I just that the two of you start thinking about investing a portion into acquiring real-estate. It's a great way of gaining an additional source of income. If you're interested that is. "
David on the other side nodded his head at Tom's advice, as he himself having already bought two properties for an extra source of income. Through a colleague's advance and was already thinking about purchasing more down the line.
Hence, David also encouraged Oliver and Martha to think it over seriously, giving his on experience in the matter as examples.
" It's a great idea, it will also allow the two of you to have an extra source of income, though having tenants may bring its own sort of problem. But, you can figure that out along the way. " David advised, seriously.
Both Martha and Oliver weren't stupid, having already been discussing the prospects of investing a small portion of the prize money. Into something beneficial in the long run which is something Oliver learned from his unreliability father.
And as the morning sun spilled through the kitchen window, Alex looked between his parents, siblings, and the two professionals at the table. For the first time, he didn't just feel like things were turning around.
He felt like they were building something real.
Two Days Later –
The official claiming of the lottery winnings had gone exactly as David promised—clean, discreet, and entirely off the radar. With the holding trust established and Tom's financial planning underway, the Williams family quietly moved out of their cramped three-bedroom apartment into a modest yet comfortable home on the quieter side of town, just a few streets away from the Henrys.
No headlines. No distant relatives showing up. Just a quiet, fresh start.
For Alex, however, the real work was just beginning.
Henry Residents
"Alright," Alex said, setting a stack of lined papers onto the workbench in Michael's garage. "Before I even say anything, just look through this. Page one is the pitch. The rest? Concepts, mechanics, progression structure… you'll get it."
Michael and Mark exchanged a glance, eyebrows raised, before flipping through the pages. Mark leaned back against the wall, eyes skimming the sketches and bullet points. Michael pulled up a chair and squinted at a rudimentary dungeon map Alex had drawn in pencil.
The Legend of Zelda was written in bold, underlined letters at the top of the first sheet.
"This… is cool," Michael muttered. "Like, really cool."
"It's ambitious," Mark added, flipping to a page labeled Core Loop with neatly written steps like Explore Overworld → Discover Dungeon → Acquire Item → Unlock New Path. "But... I mean, you think we can actually make this?"
Alex shrugged, playing it casual. "Why not? I mean, yeah, there's a lot to learn, but you both know your way around a keyboard. You've messed with BASIC and C, right? MS-DOS?"
Michael nodded slowly. "A little. I've typed out programs from magazines. Though it seems more video game these day rely primarily on assembly. "
"Same," Mark said. "I know enough to write a calculator or make the screen flash, but… a whole game?"
Alex smirked. " Hey, there no rush we'll learn as we go, isn't that how most endeavors all start out as."
Mark raised an eyebrow. "You sure you know what you're doing?"
"Let's just say I've been doing a lot of reading of my own, " Alex replied smoothly. "And I've got a pretty solid plan for how we can split up the work."
Michael was quiet for a moment. Then he looked up, excitement creeping into his voice. "You know what? Let's do it. Even if it doesn't go anywhere—it'll be fun."
Mark sighed, but a small smile tugged at his lips. Adjusting his round glass and nodding at the idea. "Alright. I'm in. But only if we get to use your mom's garage, Mike."
" Sure it shouldn't to much trouble," Michael said with a grin. " I'll tell them we're be building the future in here."
Alex chuckled. "Good. Then the future starts now."
As three boys began delving into what needed to be done, a knock soon interrupted the discussion. As Gabriella opened the door to inventing the three to come down stairs for launch.
Later That Day –
Back home, Alex approached Martha and Oliver as they sat in the den, sorting through some papers related to the house. He stood tall, notes in hand and a rare glint of nervous energy in his eyes.
"I want to make a video game," he said. "And I want to do it with Michael and Mark."
Oliver glanced at Martha, who arched a curious brow.
"You want to make video games?" she asked.
"Yeah. I've been working on the design, mapping out the mechanics… it's all here." He passed the simplified notes to his parents. "But I'll need some gear. A PC. Maybe a graphics tablet down the line. Some basic dev tools."
Martha flipped through the pages while Oliver leaned forward, scanning the diagrams.
Oliver scratched his chin. "Is this what you really want to do?"
Alex nodded. "Yeah. I know I just woke up not too long ago, and this might seem sudden… but I've never been more sure about something."
Martha and Oliver exchanged a long look. This was still Alex—their boy—but he was so different now. Clearer. Focused. Driven.
And most importantly… he was asking for something constructive.
Oliver smiled. "Alright. We'll cover what you need to get started. Within reason."
Martha added, "But you're studies still comes first. You'll need to balance both."
"Deal."
The Garage Studio – First Steps
By the end of the week, the garage at Michael's house had been cleared out and rearranged. A sturdy old workbench served as their desk, with three brand new PC sat at the center, and a corkboard hung on the wall with index cards labeled Player Movement, Combat, and Dungeon Logic.
Alex pinned up a new card at the top:
Project Hyrule – Day 1
Three boys. One garage. One dream.
It wasn't much. But it was theirs.
And from that humble space, the foundation of something far greater had begun.