Echoes of My Future Death

My mother ruined my life with a single stroke of a keyboard.

I was the city's valedictorian. The Ivy Leagues were practically tearing each other apart to hand me full-ride scholarships. Instead, she hacked into my college applications and shoved me into some trashy, no-name community college.

I snatched up my phone. "I'm calling the psych ward."

She lunged across the room. Her fingers clamped over the device, ripping it from my grip before she slammed it onto the desk.

"Going to an Ivy League is a death sentence!" Her chest heaved. "That psycho control freak will ruin you! He'll lock you in a pitch-black basement and torture you until you take your last breath!"

I leveled a deadpan stare at her. "So getting a full ride to a good school is going to get me locked in a basement?"

She sucked in a ragged breath. "I know about your secret online boyfriend. I know about the three grand you've been stashing away. I crawled my way back from the future just to save your life."

My lungs seized. The blood rushed out of my head. She wasn't having a psychotic break.

She had actually reversed time.

Chapter 1

I stared at the modified college application in my hands. My fingers wouldn't stop trembling.

"Mom, have you completely lost your mind?" I demanded. "Your daughter practically got a full ride to an Ivy League, and you're enrolling me in a trashy community college?"

My brain was short-circuiting. A montage of toxic parents sabotaging their kids' futures flashed through my headstealing scholarship money, forcing the daughter to sacrifice everything for the golden boy sibling, pure unadulterated jealousy. But none of that tracked. We were comfortably middle-class, and I was an only child.

Even if she suddenly developed a raging case of patriarchal favoritism, there wasn't a phantom brother around to benefit from it. Plus, she'd been acting absolutely unhinged since she woke up this morning.

Right now, she was huddled in the corner, her teeth snapping through sunflower seeds at a frantic pace, her eyes darting toward me every few seconds.

"Listen to me," she insisted, her voice tight. "I would never hurt you. I'm telling the truth. You can't go to an Ivy. If you go, your entire life will be ruined."

She stamped her foot on the hardwood, desperate to make me believe her. "I'm going to tell you the truth. I came back from the future. I know exactly what happens to you! Just trust me!"

I leveled a deadpan stare at the middle-aged woman standing in front of me. Alarm bells were ringing in my head.

"So I accept Yale instead?"

"No Ivy Leagues! You won't even finish your degree before you get blinded by love and run off with that gold-digging loser. And the result? You get locked up by a total psychopath, treated like a literal breeding machine, and tortured to death. They won't even find your body."

Wait a minute. That completely contradicted the story she told me five minutes ago. First she said I'd be locked in a basement by a control freak, and now I'm running off with a gold-digger and getting used as an incubator?

Were there multiple timelines? Exactly how many times had my mother supposedly respawned?

I crossed my arms. "So serial killers are just specifically targeting me now?"

She rubbed her temples, looking physically pained. "Who knows why that sick freak locked onto you? But you are absolutely not stepping foot on an Ivy League campus. You're going to the local community college in town."

"It's close. If anything happens, your father and I can get to you."

I smelled a massive rat. But my mother was the most straight-laced, no-nonsense woman on the planet. Unless she was having a genuine psychotic break, she didn't just spout this kind of unhinged garbage.

I grabbed my phone and tapped the screen. "Hi, is this the local psych ward? Yeah, I need to report a psychiatric emergency. My mother has lost her mind."

She launched herself across the room and swatted the phone out of my hand.

"Sloane, do you really not believe me?" She gripped my shoulders. "I am telling you, I came back from the future!"

"You have a massive online crush on that golden boy, Zane. Your best friend is Cleo. And I know you've been secretly hoarding three thousand dollars in a shoebox so you can drag Zane on a post-graduation trip to Cancun!"

My jaw practically unhinged. I stared at her, wide-eyed. She stared right back, breathing heavily.

She knew about my secret crush? Did she hack my college apps just to sabotage a potential vacation and stop me from dating? That level of toxic, helicopter-parent control was terrifying.

Honestly, it was way more unhinged than her claiming to be a time traveler.

But then a colder, far more terrifying realization hit me.

She was spot on about everything.

Zane was the undisputed academic god of our high school. We crossed paths on the anonymous student forums. I knew exactly who he was, but to him, I was just a screen name. Slowly, I'd started catching feelings, but it was strictly a one-sided, tragic little crush.

She could have snooped through my phone and found out about Zane. She obviously knew Cleo's name since she practically lived at our house.

But the secret stash of cash for a trip to Cancun? I hadn't breathed a word of that to a single living soul. Not even Zane knew about it! It was literally just a fantasy playing out in my head.

I hadn't booked a single flight or hotel.

Unless my mother suddenly developed telepathy she really had come back from the future.

Chapter 2

Seeing the panic drain from my face, my mom squeezed my shoulder. Her voice dropped to a dead-serious register.

"Do you believe me now? About the time travel?"

"Okay, fine," I muttered, chewing on my lower lip. "I believe you. But if I go to an Ivy, is my life actually going to turn into a literal horror movie?"

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Worse."

I opened my mouth, closed it, and finally voiced the burning question. "Is there any possibility that going to an Ivy League isn't the actual problem, and I'm just an idiot?"

How else do you explain getting trafficked and murdered in multiple timelines?

Honestly, her unhinged logic somehow won me over. Which meant that when my dad rushed through the front door an hour later, absolutely vibrating with excitement to brag about his valedictorian daughter to the entire neighborhood, his dreams crashed and burned.

He practically shook with rage, jabbing a finger at my mom. "Have you completely lost your damn mind?"

Mom didn't even blink. She just stared dead ahead. "Three months from now, the real estate market is going to crash. Every single investor will pull their funding from your firm."

"You'll be drowning in a mountain of debt, and you'll end up driving for Uber just to keep the lights on."

My dad scratched the back of his neck, his face a portrait of pure bewilderment. He shot me a desperate look. "Did you call the psych ward yet?"

I offered him a grimace. "She's a time traveler, Dad. She's telling the truth. You're probably going bankrupt in three months, and if I go to Harvard, I am one hundred percent getting murdered."

"Lunatics. Both of you." He threw his hands up in the air. "The stress of graduation has literally fried your brains!"

Refusing to entertain the time-travel theory for a second, he grabbed my mom's arm and physically hauled her toward the front door to take her to the ER.

"You have to be careful!" she shrieked over her shoulder as he dragged her out. "Today is the turning point!"

"Zane is your absolute kryptonite! Do not fall for his trap!"

Dad clamped a hand over her mouth and shoved her into the hallway. Before slamming the door, he tossed a crumpled hundred-dollar bill onto the console table, barking at me to go treat my friends to pizza.

I silently scooped up the cash, grabbed my backpack, and headed back to school.

My brain was practically spinning in circles. By the time I walked through the double doors of the main campus, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, staring at the screen.

A fresh batch of emails from Ivy League admissions officers had just hit my inbox, practically begging me to accept their offers and dangling those massive full-ride scholarships in my face. I sucked in a deep breath, swiped left, and firmly hit delete on every single one.

Then I stared at the enrollment confirmation for the local community college, my stomach tying itself into knots.

Just then, Cleo materialized beside me, leaning against the lockers with a sly grin.

"Why the long face, valedictorian? Tearing your hair out trying to choose between Yale and Harvard?"

I shot her a pained look. How was I supposed to tell her that I wasn't going to either? That both paths apparently led to me ending up as a true-crime podcast episode?

Mom said today was the most important turning point of my life. But what exactly was supposed to happen?

When I didn't answer, Cleo wiggled her eyebrows. "Well, wipe that frown off your face. I planned a little graduation surprise for you. Try not to cry from the overwhelming emotion."

She grabbed my wrist and practically dragged me out to the campus courtyard, promising to buy me ice cream from the cafeteria. Before I could even get a word out, she spun on her heel and bolted across the grass.

I stood there in the middle of the courtyard, zoning out into space. A shadow fell over me. A tall, lean figure stepped into my line of sight, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Sloane?"

My breath hitched.

The guy standing in front of me was unfairly gorgeous. Even in our standard-issue prep school uniform, he radiated this effortless, golden-boy energy.

It was Zane.

Heat rushed straight to my cheeks. Zane was the star of the AP science track, while I lived in the humanities wing on the opposite end of the building. We rarely ever crossed paths.

Id been secretly crushing on him for months, exchanging messages with him on the schools anonymous Discord server without ever dropping a selfie.

He had zero clue who I actually was. I was basically a pathetic simp living out a one-sided digital crush.

Chapter 3

"Congratulations, valedictorian. How much longer were you planning to play me?"

Zane stared at me. A half-smile played on his lips, but the look in his eyes was pure ice.

My brain flatlined. He knew. He knew I was the girl on the other side of the screen.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I stammered, taking a step back. "We barely know each other."

I spun on my heel to bolt, but his hand shot out, clamping around my bicep like a vice.

"You're SurfBunny, aren't you?"

SurfBunny. My anonymous handle. I wanted the concrete courtyard to split open and swallow me whole.

My cover was completely blown.

No wonder my mom said today was the major turning point. She knew I was going to get exposed!

"Look, I can explain"

"Don't bother." He cut me off. "Cleo already spilled everything. You told me online that you didn't even live in the city."

"You said you couldn't meet up because you were too focused on finals. Well, the grades are out, valedictorian. What's your excuse now?"

The sharp edge left his voice, replaced by a teasing, almost predatory glint in his dark eyes. He wasn't actually pissed. He was enjoying this.

"I I'm sorry," I managed to choke out. "I lied to you, but it wasn't malicious! If you want to yell at me, just do it. I can take it."

I braced myself, waiting for the disgust to wash over his face. And honestly, who could blame him? A year of insane academic stress had wreaked havoc on my skin.

The massive stress-acne breakout on my forehead had ruined whatever decent features I used to have. That was the whole reason I'd been dodging a meetup. I felt hideous.

Instead, he stepped closer. He reached out, his fingers brushing softly through my bangs, lingering against my scalp. His expression melted into something sickeningly sweet.

"You're actually really cute in person," he murmured. "I didn't expect you to be the top of the class. You're definitely heading to an Ivy, right? Why were you so scared to see me?"

"High school's over. You don't have anything holding you back anymore. Let me take you to the graduation party tonight."

Before I could even stutter out a rejection, he swiped my phone right out of my hand, tapped his number into my contacts, and shoved it back against my chest.

"Tonight at six. I'll pick you up outside the front gates."

No! I wasn't ready!

Zane flashed me a blinding, magazine-cover smile and walked away. My pulse hammered against my ribs. A rush of heat flooded my chest, drowning out the ambient noise of the courtyard.

The high lasted exactly two seconds.

My phone vibrated in my palm. A new iMessage from my mom lit up the screen.

[Sloane, did Zane just ask you to the graduation party? Do NOT go with him. If you step foot in his car, you will regret it for the rest of your life!]

If my mother wasn't a time traveler, she had a literal microchip implanted in my brain. There was no other physical way she could track my every move. The very last shred of doubt evaporated.

Time travel was real.

But why couldn't I go to the party with Zane? What the hell was going to happen tonight?

My chest tightened. I immediately hit her contact and held the phone to my ear. What could possibly happen that would trigger a life sentence in a basement?

Mom, you have to give me the details! You can't just drop a bomb like that and ghost me!

A sharp beep cut through the line. The automated voicemail kicked in. She was unreachable.

I forced myself to take a breath and think. If she really crawled back from the future, she knew exactly how this night played out. She explicitly said I couldn't go to the party with him.

Was I going to get into a horrific car crash on the way? Or was Zane involved in something shady?

Whatever the trigger was for my twisted, tragic future, I was shutting it down immediately. I was listening to my mom. It was just a stupid high school party; I could eat pizza any other night. Missing one party was definitely better than ending up locked in a psychopath's basement for the rest of my life.

Chapter 4

Cleo jogged back over with two ice cream cones, a massive smirk plastered across her face.

"So? What did the golden boy say? Are you guys going on a date?"

"You set me up with Zane? You traitor!" I lunged for her waist, but she dodged, holding up her free hand.

"You were dragging your feet! Besides, you're the valedictorian now. You think he's out of your league? Please. His GPA tanked compared to yours. He kissed his Ivy League chances goodbye."

My stomach did a weird flip. "Wait, what were his final grades?"

I was so hyped about being top of the class, I hadn't even checked the school's ranking boards. Zane was the AP king; his mock exam scores were always neck-and-neck with mine. The thought of him bombing never crossed my mind.

"He missed the Ivy cutoff by a landslide."

Oof. That was a brutal choke. No wonder his smile seemed a little forced earlier.

Asking me out right after a massive academic rejection had to be stressful. If I shot him down now, it would crush him.

Checking the time, I headed to the counselor's office to hand in my college placement forms. Shockermy counselor took one look at the community college selection and shoved it back across the desk, practically begging me to reconsider.

Did I have some kind of cursed Ivy League debuff? Was getting a good degree an automatic death sentence?

By the time I left the office, it was almost six. Zane's invitation hit me like a bucket of ice water. I whipped out my phone, ready to shoot him a quick cancellation text.

Before my thumb even hit the screen, a shadow fell over the classroom doorway. Zane leaned against the frame, waving a hand.

He had definitely upgraded his look. The stiff uniform was gone, replaced by a perfectly fitted casual outfit that highlighted his lean build. He was effortlessly, unfairly attractive.

"Figured you might try to bail, so I came to intercept. You don't mind, do you?"

Honestly? Without my mom's terrifying warning ringing in my ears, I would have melted. Now, I just forced a stiff, awkward smile. Everyone looked like a potential serial killer.

According to the timeline, I was doomed by a guy twice. Knowing how hard I fell for people, there was zero chance I'd switch crushes overnight. Which meant the psycho who supposedly locked me in a basement was probably standing right in front of me.

I swallowed hard and followed him out of the building. My brain was working in overdrive. Should I test my mom's theory? I needed concrete proof if Zane was really my future murderer.

If his grades really tanked and he wasn't going to an Ivy League, maybe he wasn't the guy. Maybe dating him was completely safe.

I opened my mouth to casually probe him.

Zane suddenly stopped in his tracks. He pulled a sleek, velvet jewelry box out of his pocket. He held it out to me, his expression dead serious.

"Sloane, I know this is sudden, but will you be my girlfriend? I've been into you for a long time. I thought you lived miles away and we'd never actually meet."

"Realizing you were right here the whole time I couldn't wait to tell you how I feel."

My mental defenses completely shattered. The academic golden boy was practically confessing his undying love. But absolute terror kept my hands glued to my sides.

"I you should really think about this," I stammered, staring at the concrete sidewalk. "I'm not exactly cover-model material. All I do is study."

"This is just way too fast, and I'm really not ready. I'm sorry."

I refused to meet his eyes. A suffocating silence stretched between us.

Zane's arm slowly dropped.

The velvet box slipped from his fingers, hitting the pavement with a dull thud.

Chapter 5

Inside was a silver necklace. It looked expensive. What a waste.

His shoulders slumped. His voice dropped to a pathetic, defeated pitch. "Sorry. I guess I read the signals wrong."

"I thought we were on the same page. But you're right. I didn't even make the Ivy cutoff."

"Why would you settle for a failure? I'm sorry for bothering you."

He let out a self-deprecating scoff, turned on his heel, and walked away.

A sharp, needle-like pain flared in my chest. He was the guy Id been obsessing over for months. If he wasn't going to an Ivy, maybe he wasn't the psycho from the future? I snatched the velvet box off the concrete, spinning around to chase him down.

A hand clamped around my wrist.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" I stared at her. "Weren't you halfway to the ER with Dad?"

She was hiding under a baseball cap and a surgical mask, materializing behind me like a shadow. She hissed, "I slipped out when he wasn't looking. Did you really think I'd leave you unsupervised?"

"I knew you'd fall for Zane's trap! I know you too well!"

She yanked my arm, trying to drag me in the opposite direction.

I dug my heels in. "Hold on. I have to give this back to Zane."

Mom's eyes zeroed in on the box. Her pupils blew wide. Pure panic radiated off her.

"He asked you out? Did you say yes?"

"No. You told me to stay away from the party, remember? I was just thinking if getting into an Ivy gets me trafficked, does it have something to do with Zane? But he doesn't seem like a psycho."

Mom let out a harsh, mocking sound. "Doesn't seem like a psycho? What does a psycho look like, Sloane?"

"You girls are so easily manipulated by a pretty face and some cheap talk. Since you don't believe me, come with me."

She didn't waste another second explaining. She shoved a spare hoodie and a mask into my chest, ordering me to put them on. My brow furrowed.

How did she have a disguise ready to go? It was like she knew exactly how I would react. Even if she really was a time traveler, how did she know every microscopic detail of my life?

We trailed Zane from a distance. Watching his slumped shoulders made my stomach twist with guilt. I was half-convinced this was all some elaborate, insane plot orchestrated by my mother.

But the second Zane turned the corner into a narrow alleyway, everything changed.

His slump vanished. The defeated-puppy act evaporated. He didn't head toward the graduation party. Instead, he slipped through the backdoor of a shady strip club tucked in the alley.

Mom hauled me into the dim, neon-lit hallway behind him, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Just watch the show."

My eyes adjusted to the neon glare. The club was already packed. Zane navigated the floor like he owned the place, sliding into a VIP booth.

He was surrounded by a crew of guysa few familiar faces I recognized as high school dropouts. One of them flicked a lighter and tossed Zane a cigarette. He caught it, lighting up with practiced ease.

"Where's your plus-one?" the dropout smirked. "Where's the little valedictorian? Didn't you bet you'd bag her tonight? We were waiting for the show."

The good-boy facade completely shattered. Zanes jaw clenched. "She shot me down. I don't know what her damn problem is."

"I thought I was hitting up some hot girl online, not the ugly nerd from our AP class. Looking at her crater-face makes me want to puke."

I sat in the adjacent booth, perfectly concealed by the shadows. My fingernails dug so hard into my palms they almost pierced the skin. Zane thought I was ugly? I hadn't even judged his garbage GPA!

I thought that was the bottom.

I thought my reality couldn't shatter any further.

"Hilarious," the dropout barked out a laugh. "She might be ugly, but she's got the brains. Valedictorian gets her pick of the Ivies."

"But since she rejected you, what's your game plan for getting into a top school? Didn't you miss the cutoff by a mile?"

Zane asking me out had something to do with him getting into an Ivy? Did he think dating me would somehow magically get him admitted?

Then he spoke.

Chapter 6

"I checked into it. Those Ivy Leagues sometimes bend the rules to recruit top geniuses, offering companion perks or joint admissions. As long as she becomes your girlfriend and is completely obsessed with you, you can piggyback off her and sneak right into the Ivy League elite."

Are you kidding me?

That was the most unhinged delusion I'd ever heard. The urban legends about joint admissions were for couples who missed the cutoff by a fraction of a point. A fraction! Not an entire GPA canyon!

"I'll figure something out," Zane said, exhaling a plume of smoke. "I don't buy that she's actually rejecting me. Once she's my girlfriend, my Ivy League spot is a lock."

He leaned back, practically radiating arrogance. That perfectly handsome face

suddenly looked repulsive