Chapter 3

March 10, 2024

Undisclosed Location

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of the mysterious, elegant man’s lips as he adjusted his cufflinks, each engraved with the symbol of his brand, a reminder of a genuine promise from long ago. The promise had not been broken but tragically taken away. Yet, he found the strength to carry on and now took pleasure in sharing his wealth. 

Today marked the beginning of the next chapter in his social media game, crafted not merely for engagement but for triumph. Somewhere out there, his next winner awaited, and he was ready to set the stage.

With a swift swipe through the air with his gloved hands, he was drawn into the illusion of speeding through the sparkling expanse of the Milky Way, before the focus narrowed on a bright star, then zooming rapidly toward Earth, a vivid blue orb spinning in the void. 

The sophisticated man gazed at the immersive space before him, delighted with all he had achieved, albeit alone.

With a second gentle motion of his hand, the blue orb steadily filled the screen, gradually spinning faster.

“Where will you take us this time,” he murmured to himself, plucking an imaginary dart from above the table. As the Earth spun faster, he aimed and released the dart. The world completed one more rotation before coming to a stop, homing in on Europe then Germany. 

“Düsseldorf,” he said out loud. Let’s see who our winner is today.”

A row of rectangular panels appeared, flickering with rapidly changing numbers. With a swipe of his hand, each panel froze in turn, completing the sequence. 

Countless magazine covers overtook the screen. Society pages and gossip columns appeared to outnumber the rest. 

“Well, who do we have here?” he mused. “Gretchen Hans Schumer. You’ve certainly led quite the life. Let’s see how this will change it.” 

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, pondering what she would write on the blank line that awaited her.

“Time to call in the troops.” With three deliberate taps on the table, the message was sent. Soon, Gretchen would receive her instructions.

March 10, 2024

Gretchen

Living on a tight budget was a reality Gretchen despised, and it clung to her like an ill-fitting coat. The frustration gnawed at her daily, spilling over onto anyone unlucky enough to cross her path.

This morning was no different. After a bitter sip of her coffee and a weary glance at the mountain of work awaiting her, her phone chirped, breaking the monotony. A smooth, confident male voice filled the room:

“Frau Gretchen, congratulations! You’ve been chosen as the third participant of Blank Checks. Please join us this afternoon, five o’clock at the Breuninger Department Store on Königsallee to claim and complete your blank check. Feel free to bring a few family members or friends along for the occasion. Best of luck, and remember, DREAM BIG!”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was this some kind of joke, or could this be the lifeline she so desperately needed?

Without hesitation, she opened the Blank Checks app and took note of how much the previous winners had acquired. “How dumb can these people be? Do they not know what Dream Big means? I’ll show the world how this game is played. No more work nor living poorly. Time to change my life again.”

Pushing her obligations off to the side, she decided to treat herself to a shopping day extravaganza. With seven hours till her big payday, it was time to return to the days of the past when money was not an issue.

She made appointments at the salon first to have her hair and nails done. Next was a visit for a new striking outfit for the evening’s occasion.  With the millions of people who would be watching her, she had to look her best. With just two hours to spare, Gretchen returned home with armloads of designer named packages, filled with all her favorite outfits, lotions and creams. The queen was back on her throne.

Arriving early at Breuninger, the store owner, Johannes, was there to greet her. “Good evening, Frau Schumer. It’s been a long time since we have seen each other. How have you been? You look elegant and dashing as always.”

With a loud grunt, she pushed her way past the door. Johannes shook his head, sad to see that she had not changed. Locking the door behind him, he silently showed her towards the back area of the store where the glorious model runway stretched out over the length of the room. Gretchen’s long legs had her up on the runway before Johannes could enter the room. She was busy on her phone, ignoring Johannes completely. 

Typing quickly, she sent a message to her son Tom.

ï You will regret not having helped me when I contacted you last.

Tom was with his wife Felicia when he received the message. “What in the world does that mean?” he asked. “My mother really cannot help herself. She has probably put a spell on a rich old man and thinks I will come running after her money.”

Gretchen was so busy sending messages to her contact list that she did not notice the three tall blond people appear from behind the stage to stand behind her. They patiently waited as she put her phone in her purse.

“Good evening, Frau Schumer,” said the first man, his voice smooth and laced with a practiced, confident warmth. A startled Gretchen turned. “In just a moment, you’ll have the opportunity to write any amount you desire on this blank check.”

The second man, with an air of quiet precision, retrieved a sleek, cylindrical device from his coat pocket. It unfurled effortlessly in his hands, revealing a gleaming surface that sprang to life. An image of a check materialized, Gretchen’s name displayed prominently on the top. In the upper-left corner, a polished logo glowed faintly, matching the ornate lapel pins worn by the one woman and the two men, emblems of power, no doubt. The signature scrawled at the bottom, however, was an enigma, little more than an elegant blur.

“Now, Frau Schumer,” the first man continued, his tone as steady as ever, “before we proceed, you have a choice. We can film you as you write the amount, your face proudly accompanying your actions, or, if you’d prefer anonymity, we can obscure your name and record only your hand. How would you like to proceed?”

Gretchen didn’t hesitate for a second. She straightened her posture, a sly smile curling at the corners of her lips. “Well, I want to be filmed, of course. The world will see me once again.” The tall woman positioned herself opposite Gretchen, capturing her practiced and knowledgeable runway presence. 

“It is time. With your finger, hover over the device and let your imagination guide you as you inscribe your desired amount on the glowing line. When you’re ready, you may begin. And always remember, Dream Big, for the future is yours to shape.”

Before positioning her hand, Gretchen looked straight into the recording device. As if on a photo shoot, she posed a few times, wrapped up in the idea that all eyes from around the world were on her. Dramatically, she positioned her hand over the device and wrote out her amount.

Copyright © 2025

Part 13 /14

Target publishing date mid August, 2025