Five minutes later, Leo slid into the drive-thru lane. He handed the plastic card to the attendant, the transaction clicked through instantly, and the scent of warm buns and savory beef filled his car.

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

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.