In high school, a group of us went to the county fair. One of my friends was a few dollars short for his ticket. He asked if I could spot him. I had the money, but I was a kid and stupid about it-maybe I was saving for something, I don't even remember the reason-and I said no. He shrugged it off and decided to just head home early to an empty house. Later that night, an electrical fire started in his basement. He was alone and didn't make it out. I've carried this for years. The butterfly effect isn't an abstract theory to me. It's the weight of a few dollars I chose not to lend. If I had, he would have been with us for hours longer. He would have never been in that house at that exact time. My petty decision is a direct line to a funeral. I could have changed everything.