She’s been dreaming of his death for weeks. Same time. Same corridor. Same boy whispering, “Don’t choose me.” The problem? She hasn’t met him yet. But when he transfers to her college, she knows the way he tilts his head when he lies. She knows the scar on his wrist. She knows the exact sound his voice will make when he’s about to break. Because she’s seen it before. In every dream, they fall in love. In every ending, one of them doesn’t make it out alive. And the worst part? Sometimes, in the dream