Tomorrow, I Will Be the One on the Obituary

I'm an obituary editor and I see the date and manner of everyone's death - for ten years, never missing a beat. Until last night, for the first time, I saw an "unconnected" way of death: an old man who hadn't been out for half a year died at an intersection four kilometers away at four in the morning, and a section of the causal chain was cut off. Someone is writing the ending for this city in advance. And his next target is the girl who leaves coffee for me every day. Tomorrow at three o'clock in the afternoon, the overpass in the west of the city. I decided to stop it. After I stopped him, I realized that rewriting death comes at a price - every time I save someone who doesn't deserve to die, the world will crack open. What emerged from the crack was my own shadow.