Nik asked me how old I would be when he and Anjali went to college. I told him that I would be in my fifties.
He looked up at me and said softly, “The future is telling me that you will die when you are 64.”
I felt a chill go through me and asked carefully, “How does the future tell you things?”
Nik: “Let’s not talk about it. It’s too sad.”
And then he gave me a long hug, patted me on the back for several minutes, and then walked away.