The first time you saw her again, it was like stepping back into a memory you hadn’t realized you were missing. Jennifer Morrison—your childhood friend, the one who knew all your secrets and silly habits—was back in town. And somehow, nothing about her had changed. Her laugh still had that warm, infectious quality that made people turn their heads, and her eyes sparkled with the same mischievous glint you remembered.

You bumped into her at the old park, the one you used to ride bikes around after school. She froze mid-step, eyes widening in recognition, then a grin spread across her face.

“Is that really you?” she asked, her voice carrying both disbelief and excitement.