I Can See How Everyone Will Die

Summary

I have the ability to see how people will die.

The day my divorce is finalized, I'm hit by an electric scooter and sent flying.

When I wake up, I see a line of text above the nurse's head. It reads, "27 years old. Breast cancer in eight years."

I pick up my phone. The first name in my contacts is my ex-wife, Caroline Meyer.

After a moment's hesitation, I open her social media. Her latest post shows her and her new boyfriend vacationing in Marencia, captioned, "Forever starts with you."

The location tag says it was posted three hours ago. We only finalized our divorce the day before.