When Liz joins her boyfriend Jim’s family for Thanksgiving, she’s charmed by their warmth and quirky traditions, until an innocent dive into family photo albums takes a creepy turn. A mysterious woman appears in the background of decades-old pictures, sending the family into a supernatural panic. But just as chaos peaks, Jim drops a bombshell…
Thanksgiving at Jim’s family home felt like stepping into a holiday movie. You know, the kind with twinkling lights, a crackling fireplace, and the scent of homemade pie wafting through the air.
A cozy living room | Source: Midjourney
His mom, Eleanor, buzzed around the kitchen with effortless grace, pulling out a golden-brown turkey and buttery rolls. His dad, Harold, delivered groan-worthy dad jokes at regular intervals, while his younger brother, Max, showed me the quirky traditions that made this family unforgettable.
“Here,” Max said, handing me a ridiculous turkey hat with googly eyes. “It’s mandatory for the family photo.”
I laughed as Jim slipped one on too, rolling his eyes in mock despair.
A woman wearing a turkey hat | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah, welcome to the clan, Lizzie,” he said. “We’re all prisoners to Mom’s traditions.”
I didn’t feel like a prisoner at all. This was the kind of family dynamic I’d always dreamed of. It was the laughter, the warmth, and everyone working in sync, even if it was chaotic. I loved it all.
After dinner, as we settled into the cozy living room, Eleanor clapped her hands.
“Now, Liz, since you’re new to the fold, it’s time for the tradition!”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Jim visibly stiffened next to me.
“Mom, no, let’s skip it this year. We don’t need to do that every time I bring someone home!”
“Oh, don’t be silly, honey!” she said, waving him off. “You’ll love this, Liz! We always show Jim’s baby photos, and let me tell you, darling, it’s a hoot!”
Jim groaned.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Brace yourself, babe,” he muttered to me, picking up his glass of whiskey.
Eleanor emerged from the hall with a gigantic, worn photo album. She flipped it open with gusto, and the room lit up with laughter.
This. I loved this. My family hadn’t been very close. My parents tried when we were younger, but at some point, they realized that they didn’t want to do the close parenting thing. For Thanksgiving this year, my brother was with his friends and my parents were in China.
A glass of whiskey on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
“Oh! I love this one!” Eleanor said.
It was a photo of baby Jim, and he was undeniably adorable. He was sitting in a high chair, covered in spaghetti. Then there was another one of him as a toddler wearing an oversized Spiderman costume. The captions, written in Eleanor’s cheerful scrawl, were as embarrassing as promised.
“Look at this one!” Max howled. “Jim in the tub with rubber ducks!”
A little boy in a bathtub with rubber ducks | Source: Midjourney
Jim buried his face in his hands while everyone laughed.
“I hate this tradition,” he mumbled, though I could see a hint of a smile.
Then Eleanor turned a page, and the atmosphere shifted.
My eyes landed on a photo of the family posing in their front yard. It was a charming scene—little Jim holding Max’s hand, Eleanor smiling brightly, and Harold standing proudly behind them.
A woman looking at an album | Source: Midjourney
But in the background, blurred yet unmistakable, was a woman. She wasn’t smiling, and something about her felt… off.
“Who’s that?” I asked, pointing to the figure.
Eleanor frowned.
“Who’s who, dear?”
A woman looking concerned | Source: Midjourney
“There,” I said, leaning closer. “Behind you all. The woman.”
The room grew quiet. Everyone leaned in, and Harold’s face went pale.
“I… I don’t remember anyone being there,” Eleanor said, her voice trembling slightly.
“Maybe it’s a neighbor?” Max suggested, but his tone was uncertain.
A close up of an older man | Source: Midjourney
He turned the page, and my stomach dropped.
There she was again!
This time, she was standing under a tree in the background, her face partially obscured by shadows.
Eleanor clutched her chest.
“What is happening? Who is she? Why is she in our photos? Max, pass me my rosary!”
A rosary on a table | Source: Midjourney
“This… this doesn’t make sense. These pictures are years apart. How could the same woman be in different places?” Harold muttered.
“I need to call Father Thomas,” Eleanor said, pacing the living room. “This is not normal!”
Jim, sitting silently beside me, started shaking slightly. At first, I thought he was overwhelmed. Then I realized he was holding back laughter.
A panicked older woman | Source: Midjourney
“Oh my goodness,” Eleanor whispered, her eyes wide. “Is she a ghost? Has she been following us all these years? I told you, Harold! That house we lived in before this one wasn’t right! I told you something felt off…”
Max flipped through the album frantically. The mysterious woman appeared in photo after photo—at the park, behind a picnic table, peering through a window.
And at every page turn, Eleanor’s face paled even further.
A stack of albums on a table | Source: Midjourney
“This is why I always told you to sage the house, Harold! You never listen to me, do you? Look now! I don’t know whether to laugh or cry!”
Jim finally lost it, doubling over with laughter.
“Mom, stop! Stop!” he gasped, tears streaming down his face.
Eleanor spun around, suddenly furious.
A woman holding a large bundle of sage | Source: Midjourney
“Why are you laughing, Jim?” she asked. “This isn’t funny! Not at all!”
My boyfriend wiped his eyes, barely able to speak through his laughter.
“Because… because I know who she is.”
Everyone froze, myself included. What was this man on about?
A laughing man | Source: Midjourney
“What? You what?” Eleanor shrieked, throwing a cushion at him.
Jim grinned, holding up his hands.
“Okay, okay! Calm down! It’s just a prank.”
“It’s a what?” Harold gasped.
“Excuse me, what?” Eleanor said, holding her chest.
A woman holding a cushion | Source: Midjourney
“It’s Photoshop,” he admitted, still grinning. “I learned it for my design certification course. They said that the edits needed to be convincing to pass. So, I used our family photos as practice.”
Eleanor’s jaw dropped.
“You Photoshopped a creepy woman into our family photos? Why on earth would you do that? Where are the originals?”
“Relax, they’re tucked behind the edited photos.”
A man using his laptop | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t you tell me to relax,” Eleanor said, but we could all see that she had calmed down.
Jim smirked, leaning back on the couch.
“Because you take out these albums every single year and humiliate me in front of whoever I’m dating or family that’s visiting. Every. Single. Time. I told you to stop, and you didn’t. So, I decided to get even with you and Dad.”
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Max doubled over laughing. “This is the best thing you’ve ever done, bro!”
Harold, who’d been silent for most of the reveal, finally let out a chuckle.
“Well, you’ve got to admit, Eleanor, this is memorable!”
Her face was a mix of horror and reluctant amusement.
A laughing man | Source: Midjourney
“You scared us half to death, Jim! I thought we were being haunted.”
“Oh, come on, Mom,” my boyfriend laughed. “Admit it, this is way more entertaining than baby Jim in a bathtub.”
For a moment, Eleanor just stared at him, her lips pressed tight. Then, to everyone’s relief, she started laughing. It was the kind of laughter that shook her shoulders and made her wipe tears from her eyes.
“All right, all right,” she said, holding up her hands. “You win. But you’re sorting out that entire album tomorrow!”
A laughing older woman | Source: Midjourney
“Deal,” Jim said, still grinning.
As the laughter died down, Jim turned to me, his expression sheepish.
“So, Lizzie, welcome to the family?” he said.
I couldn’t stop laughing. It was ridiculous, yes, but it also showed me something about Jim. He wasn’t just clever. He knew how to stand up for himself in the funniest, most unexpected ways.
A smiling woman holding a mug | Source: Midjourney
This family wasn’t perfect, but they were wholesome, and they were real. And I adored that.
“Come on, it’s time for ice cream cones with all the toppings,” Harold said. “Jim, for pranking us, you do the scooping!”
That night, as we said our goodbyes, Eleanor gave me a warm hug.
“I hope you’ll come back for Christmas, my dear,” she said, her eyes shining.
A tub of ice cream and toppings | Source: Midjourney
I glanced at Jim and smirked.
“I will,” I said. “But only if the photos are ghost-free.”
Eleanor laughed, and Jim groaned. “You’ll never let me live this down, will you?”
A woman standing in a doorway and laughing | Source: Midjourney
“Never,” I said, slipping my hand into his.
“But I think I’ll sage the house, just in case,” Eleanor said seriously.
As we drove home, turkey hats tucked into the backseat, I couldn’t help but think—I love this goofy, chaotic family already.
A couple sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
Priest Conducting Funeral Service for Wealthy Woman Leaned over Her Coffin – He Was Stunned to the Core by What He Saw
When Father Michael is conducting a funeral service for a woman, he notices an oddly shaped birthmark on her neck, exactly like his own. What comes next is a journey of self-discovery through the grieving process. Will Father Michael get the answers he so desperately wants to find?
The cathedral was silent, veiled in the heavy air of loss. Shadows from towering candles flickered along the marble floor as mourners dressed in black filled the pews, their heads bowed in reverence.
A funeral in a cathedral | Source: Midjourney
Eleanor, known throughout the community as a generous but reserved woman, had left behind both a sizable fortune and an enduring mystery.
Father Michael took a deep breath, the weight of yet another funeral pressing on him as he approached her casket. He’d never met Eleanor in person, yet something about her presence had always seemed familiar, almost hauntingly so.
As he moved closer, a strange compulsion stopped him. It was something that he couldn’t explain.
A priest in a cathedral | Source: Midjourney
He paused, then leaned in, bowing his head to begin the prayer. But as he did, his gaze drifted to her neck, and he froze.
Just behind her ear, a small, purplish birthmark stood out against her pale skin. It was almost shaped like a plum, the same shape and color as the one he had carried his whole life.
“How?” he muttered. “What does this mean?”
A woman in a casket | Source: Midjourney
A chill shot through him, his hand reaching up to press against his neck. He was well aware that everyone was looking at him, but still, he couldn’t help himself.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
I Was Shocked When My Wife Gave Birth to a Black Baby – The Reason Changed Everything!
Brent’s life turns upside down when his wife gives birth to a baby with dark skin, causing shock and accusations in the delivery room. As doubt and feelings of betrayal threaten to break their family apart, Brent faces a choice that will test their love and trust forever.
After five years of trying, Stephanie and I were finally going to be parents. Stephanie held my hand tightly as she endured another contraction, but her face was calm and focused.
When the first cry filled the room, I felt a mix of relief, pride, and love all at once. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until I let it out in a shaky sigh.
Stephanie reached out, eager to hold our baby, but when the nurse placed the tiny bundle in her arms, the mood shifted.
Stephanie stared at the baby, her face losing color, her eyes wide with shock.
“That’s not my baby,” she gasped, her words catching in her throat. “That’s not my baby!”
I blinked, confused. “What do you mean? Steph, what are you talking about?”
She shook her head as the nurse explained that they hadn’t cut the umbilical cord yet, so this was definitely our baby. Stephanie looked like she wanted to push the baby away.
“Brent, look!” Her voice rose in panic. “She’s… she’s not… I never…”
I looked down at our baby and felt my world tilt. Dark skin, soft curls. It felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me.
“What the hell, Stephanie?” My voice sounded sharp and accusing.
The nurse flinched, and I noticed our families frozen in shock.
“It’s not mine!” Stephanie’s voice broke as she looked at me, tears in her eyes. “It can’t be. I never slept with anyone else. Brent, you must believe me.”
The tension in the room felt heavy, and everyone quietly slipped away, leaving just the three of us. I should’ve stayed, but I couldn’t bear the feeling of betrayal.
“Brent, wait!” Stephanie’s voice called out as I marched toward the door. “Please, don’t leave me. I swear, I’ve never been with anyone else. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved.”
Her honesty made me stop. I turned to her. This was the woman I’d loved for years. Could she really be lying to me now?
“Steph,” I said softly, despite the storm inside me. “This doesn’t make sense. How… how do you explain this?”
“I don’t understand it either, but please, Brent, you have to believe me.”
I looked back at the baby in her arms. The skin and hair were still a shock, but then I saw it: she had my eyes and a dimple on her left cheek, just like me.
I stepped closer and cupped Stephanie’s cheek. “I’m here. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not leaving you. We’ll figure this out together.”
She collapsed against me, sobbing, and I held my wife and daughter tightly. I’m not sure how long we stayed like that, but eventually, Stephanie began to nod off, exhausted from labor and the stress of the situation.
I gently untangled myself from them and said, “I just need a minute. I’ll be right back.”
Stephanie looked up at me, her eyes puffy and red, and nodded. I knew she was scared I wouldn’t return, but I needed to clear my head.
I stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking softly behind me, and took a deep breath. But it didn’t help. I needed more than just air. I needed answers.
“Brent,” a familiar voice called, cutting through my thoughts.
I looked up to see my mother standing by the window at the end of the hall, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her face was set in a disapproving line that used to scare me as a kid.
“Mom,” I greeted her, but my voice was flat. I didn’t have the energy for any lecture.
She didn’t waste time. “Brent, you can’t stay with her after this. You saw the baby. That’s not your child. It can’t be.”
“She is my child; I’m sure of it. I—” My voice faltered because I wasn’t entirely sure. That doubt was eating at me.
Mom moved closer, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t be naive, Brent. Stephanie has betrayed you. You need to wake up.”
Her words hit me hard. I wanted to shout at her, to say she was wrong, but I couldn’t. Some part of me whispered that maybe she was right.
“Mom, I… I don’t know,” I admitted, feeling the ground slip away beneath my feet. “I don’t know what to think right now.”
She softened slightly, reaching out to touch my arm. “Brent, you need to leave her. You deserve better than this. She’s clearly not who you thought she was.”
I pulled away from her. “No, you don’t get it. That’s my wife and daughter in there. I can’t just walk away.”
Mom gave me a pitying look. “Brent, sometimes you have to make hard choices for your own good. You deserve the truth.”
I turned away. “Yeah, I do deserve the truth. But I’m not making any decisions until I have it. I’m going to find out what’s going on, and whatever I discover, I’ll deal with it. But until then, I’m not giving up on Stephanie.”
She sighed, clearly unhappy with my answer, but didn’t push further. “Just be careful, Brent. Don’t let your love for her blind you.”
With that, I walked away. I couldn’t stand there and listen to any more doubts. I made my way down to the hospital’s genetics department, every step feeling heavier.
When I reached the office, my heart was pounding, reminding me of what was at stake.
The doctor was calm and explained the DNA test process like it was routine. But for me, it was anything but.
They took my blood and swabbed the inside of my cheek, promising results as soon as possible.
I spent those hours pacing the waiting area, replaying everything in my head. I thought about Stephanie’s desperate look, her need for me to believe her.
And the baby with my eyes and dimples. My heart held onto those details like a lifeline. But my mom’s voice kept telling me I was a fool for not seeing the truth.
Finally, the call came. I could barely hear the doctor’s voice over the roar of blood in my ears. But then the words cut through: “The test confirms that you are the biological father.”
Relief washed over me, followed by guilt so sharp it made me catch my breath. How could I have doubted her? How could I have let suspicion cloud my mind?
But the doctor wasn’t finished.
She explained recessive genes and how traits from generations back could show up in a child. It made sense, but it didn’t erase my shame for not trusting Stephanie.
The truth was clear
I made my way back to the room, the results in my hand like a lifeline.
When I opened the door, Stephanie looked up, hope shining in her eyes. I crossed the room quickly and handed her the paper.
Her hands trembled as she read, and then she broke down in tears of relief.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry I doubted you.”
She shook her head, pulling me close, our daughter nestled between us. “We’ll be okay now,” she said softly.
As I held them both, I made a silent vow: no matter what came our way, I would protect my family. This was my wife and my child, and I would never let doubt or judgment come between us again.
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