The Night Before My Birthday, My Late Father Came to Me in a Dream and Said, “Don’t Wear the Green Dress.” The Next Morning, I Saw It — and Realized He’d Been Right to Warn Me.

The powder kept coming—not a huge amount, maybe a tablespoon or two, but unmistakably deliberate.

White. Fine-grained. Seemingly odorless.

What is this? My mind screamed. Why would this be here?

I recoiled from the bed violently, dropping the dress as if it had suddenly burst into flames. My breathing became rapid and shallow, and a pounding began in continue reading …