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On the day SAT results were released, I was on my way to deliver a gift to my childhood friend when I was caught in a serious car accident. My hands were covered in blood as I dialed Spencer Thompson's number. When the call connected, I heard the cry of a baby and sounds of celebration in a crowded room. A woman's sweet voice said, "Honey, come hold our daughter." Daughter? Honey? Just half an hour earlier, Spencer had still messaged me, saying that after I checked my results, he had something he wanted to tell me. The next second, Spencer’s voice came through, cold as ice. "Tanya, you've been avoiding me for seven years. Now that you know I have a wife and child, you can't stand it anymore, can you?" I coughed up blood, my voice trembling. "Spencer, I was in a car accident..." He laughed instead. "You even choose to die at my happiest moment just to ruin the mood." Later, I watched fuel slowly seep into the car cabin. Only then did I realize that the future Spencer would rather I be dead.