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Ten minutes before the college application deadline, my phone lit up on its own. On the screen, my thirty-year-old self sat in a hospital hallway, an IV needle in the back of her hand, her eyes bloodshot. She said, "Don't apply to Riverdale University. "Ryan never planned to marry you. He and Sophie have been together since senior year of high school. "Your parents, your closest friend, your teacher all know. You're the only one who doesn't. "Buy a lottery ticket from the eighth machine on Nontown Road. Don't sell the house. The demolition boundary will change on July 3rd. Open an account in September and buy HorizonTech stock. Hold onto it." At the end of the video, she looked at me, her voice hoarse and trembling. "Chloe, don't throw your whole life away for a liar." The phone screen went black. Six minutes left on the countdown. A message from Ryan popped up. [Chloe, apply to Riverdale University. We promised we'd be together.] My hand on the mouse paused for a second. I deleted Riverdale University and entered Kingsburg Institute of Aeronautics. This time, I wouldn't look back.