Page 26 of Forever

Is there something I missed all these years?she asked herself, studying every detail of her father's face in each photograph.You always said you wanted to protect me, but from what? Was it this life? Being an agent?

The photo albums seemed to whisper as Morgan turned the pages, each image a window into her past. A snapshot of her riding a bike through their suburban neighborhood, with her dad's strong hands steadying her from behind, brought back the smell of fresh-cut grass and the feeling of the wind against her face. A pang of sadness stabbed at her heart, but she continued to flip through.

"Look at us, Dad," she murmured, tracing a finger over a picture of them building a snowman together. Morgan could almost hear his laughter and feel the chill of the snowflakes melting on her cheeks. "You made life so much fun."

She held up a photo of her hugging her dad after her high school graduation. The pride in his eyes was something she'd never forget. He was always her biggest supporter.

Morgan's fingers trembled as she turned another page, and her eyes fell upon a photograph of them dancing at the Father-Daughter Dance. She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the memory to wash over her. The sound of the music playing softly in the background – it all felt so real.

"God, I miss you," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her grief. "I wish you were still here. You would know what to do."

A tear slid down her cheek as she stared at the last photo in the album. It was taken just before her arrest – her father's arm around her shoulders, both of them smiling for the camera, blissfully unaware of the storm that was about to hit.

Is it true, Dad? Were you really an FBI agent before I was born? And if so… why didn't you tell me?

Her father's eyes seemed to bore into hers through the photograph, but they offered no answers. The room felt colder now – the silence heavy and oppressive.

Morgan took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. With a sudden burst of energy, she shoved the boxes back into the depths of the closet, shutting the door with a resolute slam. The sound echoed through the quiet room, and as it faded away, Morgan felt an odd sense of determination settle over her. She couldn't let some stranger's words get to her. She knew her dad. Even if he did lie to her, she knew there would have been a good reason.

Her footsteps felt heavy as she crossed the living space, feeling the weight of her past threatening to crush her. She sank back onto the kitchen chair, surrounded by the files and photos that she had been poring over for hours. Her eyes flicked between them, searching for connections that remained elusive.

"Stacy, orphan… Martha, lost child… Amber, parents gone…" Morgan whispered, her voice barely audible against the hum of her laptop. She could feel the exhaustion creeping up on her, but she refused to give in. There had to be something she was missing – some clue that would unravel the mystery.

"Three different traumas, three different murder locations…"

She leaned back on the chair, staring at the ceiling as if the answers were written there. Her mind swam with faces and names, victims and locations, but nothing seemed to fit together.

As much as she hated to admit it, Derik would probably be a good help right now. But as always, she'd pushed him away. Even if her reasons were good, she was frustrated with herself. They needed answers. She just hoped Derik was looking for them too.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Megan leaned her head against the cool window of the van, watching her own breath fog up the glass as she exhaled. The night was dark, the streetlights casting a soft orange glow on the pavement below. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of their earlier movie date - her cheeks still felt warm from all the laughter they shared. Her date was older than her, but there was a certain charm that came with his age. She felt a surge of gratitude for having met him at the church group; it was a serendipitous blessing.

Mom and Dad would love him,she thought to herself, thinking about how proud they'd be of her choice. Megan had always been teased by her parents for her string of not-so-perfect boyfriends.

Her eyes drifted towards the hardware store's entrance, willing her date to emerge any moment now. As much as she wanted to bask in the afterglow of their evening, the clock was ticking. It was already almost ten p.m., and she had to be home by 10:30 at the latest. Where was he? What could possibly be taking him so long?

"Okay, Megan, calm down," she murmured, folding her hands in her lap and taking a deep breath. "He'll be out soon."

She tried to distract herself by replaying the funniest moments from their date in her mind, focusing on the sound of his laughter and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. But the longer he took, the more her anxiety began to bubble up inside her. A part of her worried about her parents' reaction if she was late, while another part couldn't shake off a nagging unease about being alone in a parked van at night.

At long last, her date strode back to the van, a plastic bag swinging from his hand. He tossed it on the backseat before sliding behind the wheel. Megan craned her neck to get a better look at its contents: rope and duct tape. Her curiosity piqued, she turned to face him as he settled in the driver's seat.

"Sorry for taking so long," he said, adjusting the rearview mirror. "I needed to pick up some stuff for work tomorrow before the store closed."

Megan offered a tight smile, her unease momentarily forgotten. "It's fine," she replied, brushing off her previous anxiety. "But I really need to get home now. My parents are expecting me back soon."

"Of course," he said, nodding understandingly as he started the engine. The van roared to life, and Megan felt a shiver of relief run down her spine. As much as she'd enjoyed their date, she really did need to get home.

As they pulled away from the hardware store, Megan couldn't help but glance back at the rope and duct tape once more. She wondered what kind of job required such items, but decided that it was none of her business. Instead, she focused on the familiar sights passing by outside her window, counting the minutes until she would be back within the comforting embrace of her family home.

Yet, despite her best efforts, the lingering image of the rope and duct tape gnawed at the edges of her thoughts. A small voice within her whispered doubts, planting seeds of unease that threatened to grow with each passing second. With a determined effort, Megan pushed those thoughts away and focused on the road ahead, willing herself to remain calm and collected.

Megan noticed her date's grip on the steering wheel tighten. The engine hummed softly as he turned onto the main road, flicking on the turn signal to indicate a left turn. A chill crept up her spine, and she glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard. 10:12 PM. Not much time left.

"Hey," she said hesitantly, "my parents' place is back the other way."

"Is it?" He smiled, his eyes never leaving the road. "I must have gotten turned around."

---