The Arizona Lottery offers multiple draw games for those aiming to win big.

Here’s a look at Friday, March 6, 2026 results for each game:

Winning Mega Millions numbers

08-19-26-38-42, Mega Ball: 24

Check Mega Millions payouts and previous drawings here.

Winning Pick 3 numbers

8-0-8

Check Pick 3 payouts and previous drawings here.

Winning Fantasy 5 numbers

13-18-23-24-34

Check Fantasy 5 payouts and previous drawings here.

Winning Triple Twist numbers

05-06-15-19-21-42

Check Triple Twist payouts and previous drawings here.

Feeling lucky? Explore the latest lottery news and results

What time is the Powerball drawing?

Powerball drawings are at 7:59 p.m. Arizona time on Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays.

How much is a Powerball lottery ticket today?

In Arizona, Powerball tickets cost $2 per game, according to the Arizona Lottery.

How to play the Powerball

To play, select five numbers from 1 to 69 for the white balls, then select one number from 1 to 26 for the red Powerball.

You can choose your lucky numbers on a play slip or let the lottery terminal randomly pick your numbers.

To win, match one of the 9 Ways to Win:

• 5 white balls + 1 red Powerball = Grand prize.
• 5 white balls = $1 million.
• 4 white balls + 1 red Powerball = $50,000.
• 4 white balls = $100.
• 3 white balls + 1 red Powerball = $100.
• 3 white balls = $7.
• 2 white balls + 1 red Powerball = $7.
• 1 white ball + 1 red Powerball = $4.
• 1 red Powerball = $4.

At least five people detained in Maine by immigration agents during a January surge are being held at an Arizona facility where a Haitian man died this week of sepsis caused by an untreated tooth infection, according to his family.

U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement has not confirmed the death of Emmanuel Damas, who lived in Dorchester, Massachusetts, when he was detained last year. Damas’ brother told the Boston Globe he didn’t get proper medical attention in ICE custody, and Massachusetts’ U.S. senators have called for an investigation into what they believe was likely a “highly preventable” death.

ICE has reported nine other deaths of people in custody this year.

Concerns about the conditions at the Central Arizona Florence Correctional Center and other ICE facilities underscore that immigrants without criminal records, including some of those who were targeted in Maine, are spending more than a month in custody, often in prisons that were built for people convicted of crimes.

Marcos Gaspar-Da Silva, who has no criminal history and is in the process of applying for a green card, is one of the Maine detainees at the central Arizona facility. He’s been there for a month.

His wife, Alessia, is a U.S. citizen and said while Marcos is in a special part of the prison with more freedom than the general population, he’s sick from drinking the water and eating food that’s cooked in it. He’s having gastrointestinal problems and vomiting that seem to get better only when he avoids the water, she said.

“We’re trying to switch him to eating just enough to stay alive while we work on his case,” she said. “How is this where we’ve gotten in America?”

She’s also deeply concerned that Gaspar-Da Silva is developing a toothache.

Marcos Gaspar-Da Silva. (Courtesy photo)

STUCK FOR WEEKS

Isaac Nzau is surprised he’s still waiting for his friend to come home. Nzau leads a congregation at a Portland church and on Jan. 20, his assistant pastor was detained during a trip to the grocery store. He does not have a criminal record and works legally in the U.S. His attorneys asked that his name not be published because they fear that he will face retaliation for speaking out.

Not long after his friend was detained, Nzau and the church’s congregation said they deeply missed the assistant pastor, but they were hopeful that he would be back with them soon.

“Normally he’s all over the place during services — singing, praying, giving people rides to and from church,” said congregant Maria Cesar, her face lighting up. “He pours his heart out for people that need help.”

“Pray for God to have grace on him,” Nzau said during a Sunday service on Feb. 8. Congregants waved their hands.

A month later, their prayers have not been answered. The assistant pastor is still detained in Arizona as his attorneys face off with government lawyers about whether or not he should be released — proceedings that can take months to unfold.

Even before Damas’ death this week, immigrant advocates said conditions at the central Arizona prison are poor, although the company that runs the prison disputes those claims.

The facility had a measles outbreak in February. Viruses and a lack of access to medical care have been problems there for several years, said Liz Casey, a social worker at the Florence Immigrant and Refugee Rights Project, which provides free legal and social services to people who are detained in Arizona. 

“With the increased enforcement and people being flown all over the country, going from facility to facility, that just increases the risk of infection,” Casey said.

CoreCivic operates the Arizona facility and many others where ICE is holding people.

“We take seriously our obligation to adhere to all applicable federal detention standards and will continue to ensure that all detainees receive appropriate and timely medical attention,” company spokesman Ryan Gustin said in an email. He declined to confirm Damas’ death.

He noted that CoreCivic has health care staff in the facility and coordinates with off-site providers and hospitals.

Casey’s group, the Florence Project, has filed complaints with the Department of Homeland Security alleging CoreCivic and ICE have violated detention standards. She’s visited detainees at the Arizona center and said the conditions there are “inhumane,” particularly for people who have chronic illnesses, disabilities and need specialty care.

This week’s death is the second at the Central Arizona Florence Correctional Center in the past year. In August, a detainee who had diabetes died after he contracted COVID-19.

Alessia Gaspar-Da Silva said that despite feeling sick, her husband Marcos’ time at the Central Arizona Florence Correctional Center has been better than at the temporary facilities where he was held in both that state and Louisiana. He told her those facilities were overcrowded and at times he had to use the bathroom in buckets and sleep on concrete floors without blankets.

During those frequent transfers in harsh conditions, Alessia said, immigration authorities tried to get her husband to agree to leave the country voluntarily.

Rep. Chellie Pingree, D-1st District, recently toured a facility in Massachusetts that held many of the “Operation Catch of the Day” detainees for their initial few days in custody. Attorneys allege it is “abysmal” and “unsanitary,” but Pingree said she did not witness those conditions on her visit.

ICE did not respond to a request for comment for this story. A Department of Homeland Security spokesperson told The New York Times in February that for detainees in custody across the country, “This is the best health care that many aliens have received in their entire lives.”

IN SEARCH OF SAFETY

The other people at the Arizona facility who were taken into custody in Maine in January include the roommate of the assistant pastor in Portland, as well as Kimuena Jonathan Nguinamau, who was detained in Auburn, and Inacio Joao, who was detained in Lewiston, according to ICE’s online locator.

The assistant pastor has been applying for asylum, said his attorney Lauren Kousaie in Portland. He’s from the Democratic Republic of the Congo where a lengthy war has killed 6 million people. He left in 2022, “because he was a member of an opposition political party and was being persecuted by the Congolese government,” Kousaie said.

He made the difficult journey to the U.S. because he wanted to live in a place “that respects human rights,” she said.

The community he has established in Maine includes his work at the church, his assistance for people in the congregation, and a job at a restaurant in Falmouth.

Andrea Dibanza, who attends their church, said she tried to call him the morning he was detained. “He drove me everywhere, including to school,” she said. He didn’t pick up the phone.

Weeks later, the assistant pastor called Kousaie’s office from detention. In French, he told a paralegal that it felt like “torture just like we were in our home countries.”

By now, as dozens of other people detained in January have been released and returned to Maine, Alessia Gaspar Da-Silva said she feels like the public has forgotten about people like her husband, or that they believe he must have done something wrong to still be in custody. 

But the legal system takes time, she said, and as the days grind on, “We’re still living it.”