He arrived home to find Sarah already setting the table with paper napkins. He tossed the bag down with a triumphant grin.

The neon glow of the Arby’s sign pulsed against the windshield, a beacon of roast beef and horsey sauce in the late-night drizzle. Inside the car, Leo fumbled through his wallet, finding only a crumpled receipt and three pennies.

"I told you I’d get dinner," Leo muttered to himself, thinking of his roommate, Sarah, who was currently back at the apartment celebrating a promotion.

Just to be sure, he checked the back of the card while walking back to his car. It listed the possibilities: he could have found these at most major retailers like CVS, Target, or Kroger. Even better, he realized he could have just ordered a digital one from the Arby’s website or through the app if he hadn't been in such a rush.

He had promised her a feast of Jamocha shakes and curly fries, but his debit card was sitting on his bedside table three miles away. He needed a miracle, or at least a gift card he could buy with the emergency twenty-dollar bill tucked behind his driver's license.

"I did," Leo admitted, "but never underestimate the power of a well-placed gift card."

"Thought you forgot your wallet," she said, raising an eyebrow.