My Foster Parents' Fatal Mistake

An MIT acceptance letter lay on my desk, a full-ride scholarship, my ticket to a dazzling future far from my foster home.

But my foster father, Rufus, scoffed, his voice flat: "You're not going."

Instead, he' d arranged a "tech internship" out West, promising big money and opportunities, while my foster mother, Sylvia, faked a panicked "premonition" about a bus crash to dissuade me.

They were lying. I knew it. All of it.

Because I had lived this day before, died a horrific death on a cold metal table, betrayed by the very people who claimed to be my family.