I stared at it.
My father watched me carefully.
“There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
He hesitated.
Then he said:
“Jasmine has been investigating you.”
A cold sensation traveled down my spine.
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
“Then find out.”
“We already tried.”
“And?”
My father’s expression darkened.
“We discovered that Jasmine isn’t her real name.”
I froze.
“What?”
“She changed her identity seven years ago.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
I looked back at the photograph.
For the first time, the woman who had taken my seat on the jet didn’t look like a foolish secretary trying to seduce my husband.
She looked like something else.
Someone who had entered our lives with a purpose.
And suddenly, the humiliating scene on the plane felt different.
Maybe Jasmine hadn’t taken my seat because she wanted Aaron.
Maybe she wanted me to leave.
Maybe she had known exactly what would happen.
My phone suddenly rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
