"Tsk, tsk." Jesse Rowan held the photos, flipping through them one by one, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Every photo had the same young girl in it, but there was one photo where, in addition to her, there was also a man.
The man looked to be in his early twenties, standing beside her, giving off the impression of a young couple.
Jesse Rowan glanced at the man and immediately recognized him—it was Charles Mcintosh!
Did he just uncover something incredible?
He always thought Charles Mcintosh, as stiff as a block of wood, had never even dated anyone.
Unexpectedly, he had such a beautiful girlfriend.
This girl wore no makeup, her face still carrying a hint of baby fat. Her eyes were bright, and her lips were rosy—a true beauty.
"Not bad taste," Jesse Rowan couldn't help but give Charles Mcintosh a rare compliment.
However, these photos were already yellowed with age, some even weathered and brittle, as if they could snap with a single fold.
