The Wrong Woman

"Before high school, I grew up and went to school out on the frontier," Jasper said.

"So, which one are you in the middle school photos?" Imogen asked, carefully studying the few snapshots of several people.

"Check out the group photos. Besides those, there aren't any solo shots of us together," Jasper responded with a hint of disappointment.

Imogen froze, staring at Jasper in disbelief. Anxiety churned in her chest and a sense of impending dread swept over her. She swallowed hard, her voice slightly quivering as she asked, "Was it that I didn't want to take photos with you? Or did we just never get the chance?"

"It was that you didn't want to," Jasper replied.

Imogen fell silent, her heart pounding erratically. She was gripped tightly by a wave of panic. She had always been known for her approachability and friendliness, so turning down a schoolmate's invitation for a photo felt oddly out of character.

Unless... it was him!

Her breath caught as she cautiously asked, "Is your last name Morrison?"

Jasper nodded silently.

the general at the military base who shared the same last name.

trying to steady her nerves before cautiously asking,

bitter smile. "Yeah, you tore them all up.

went pale with shock. She tossed the photos onto the coffee table and quickly retreated to her room, slamming

reaction, a deep sense of disappointment washing over him, mingled with bitter anguish. Had she truly just run away

Previously, she had avoided him in much the same way, treating their encounters as if she had seen a ghost. Apart from school-related interactions, she never spoke

head, overwhelmed with sadness as he gathered the

her room, her hand pressed to her chest. Her breath came in ragged

ghost story she'd heard. It shook her

was the CEO

even have the right to look upon him? And yet, she was thrust

she was losing

bed, she pulled the blanket