She scrolled further down a forum post. One user, DreamWalker99 , had written: Sometimes, the 'parents' in your dream aren't your mother and father. They are your past and your heritage. They aren't trying to marry you to a person; they are trying to marry you to your roots.
"Hey, Dad?" she said when the line picked up. "I had a strange dream. I think I just miss home."
She closed the laptop, the blue light fading from her eyes. Perhaps the dream wasn't a warning of a forced future, but a reminder of a forgotten past. She didn't need a website to interpret the image for her anymore. She picked up her phone and dialed a number she hadn't called in weeks.
Every website she clicked on felt like a labyrinth of pop-up ads and low-resolution stock photos of weeping brides. She was looking for a sign, but all she found were cryptic interpretations about "unresolved family obligations" and "the fear of losing autonomy."
Maya sighed, leaning back in her chair. In the dream, her father hadn't looked like the gentle man who taught her how to ride a bike. He was a silhouette, holding a heavy, golden veil that felt more like a shroud. Her mother stood behind him, her face obscured by a "Full Image Site" watermark that seemed to hover in the air like a glitch in reality. "It's just a dream," she whispered to the empty apartment.
