My Boyfriend Invited Me to Thanksgiving with His Family, but When They Showed Me Their Family Photos, We Were All Shocked

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 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 Returned Home from a Long Trip without Warning My Husband and Found a Strange Child Inside – ‘I Live Here,’ He Said

I came home unexpectedly from a long trip to find a strange child in my living room. The boy said he lived there, and as I followed his innocent directions to the bedroom, I uncovered a truth about my husband’s involvement that shattered my world.

As I pushed open the front door, my kids darted past me into the house, yelling “Surprise!” Their voices echoed in the house. But something felt off. There were shoes by the door that didn’t belong to us. A couple of pairs were small, definitely children’s shoes, but not my children’s. I froze.

A line of unfamiliar shoes by the front door, hinting at a mystery | Source: Pexels

A line of unfamiliar shoes by the front door, hinting at a mystery | Source: Pexels

“Mom, why are there other people’s shoes here?” Emma asked, her brow furrowed.

I forced a smile. “Probably some guests. Let’s find Dad and see.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and moved toward the living room. My steps were slow, deliberate. I peeked around the corner and there he was: a young boy, maybe four years old, sitting in our living room, engrossed in cartoons on the TV.

The boy turned to look at me, unfazed. “Hi,” he said with a toothy grin.

A young boy named Jason smiling innocently in the living room | Source: Pexels

A young boy named Jason smiling innocently in the living room | Source: Pexels

“Hi there,” I replied, my voice shaky. “Who are you?”

“I’m Jason,” he said. “I live here.”

My heart skipped a beat. “You… live here?” I repeated, more to myself than to him. “Where are your parents, Jason?”

He pointed toward the hallway. “In the bedroom.”

I stood there, rooted to the spot. How could this be? I had only been gone for three weeks. I needed answers. I needed to see Ian, my husband.

Julia's shocked face as she hears Jason's claim of living there | Source: Pexels

Julia’s shocked face as she hears Jason’s claim of living there | Source: Pexels

“Stay here, kids,” I whispered to Emma and Max, who were now eyeing Jason curiously. “I’ll be right back.”

Each step toward the bedroom felt heavier than the last. My hands trembled as I reached for the doorknob. I paused, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

Inside, the sight that met my eyes made my stomach churn. Ian was in bed with another woman. They sprang apart, eyes wide with shock, as if they’d seen a ghost. The woman, a brunette with soft features, clutched the sheets to her chest.

Ian and Sophie, caught in bed | Source: Pexels

Ian and Sophie, caught in bed | Source: Pexels

“Julia!” Ian stammered, scrambling to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My eyes darted between them, then back to Ian. I wanted to scream, cry, or do anything but stand there in stunned silence.

“Who is she?” I finally managed to choke out.

“I’m Sophie,” the woman said, her voice trembling. “I… I thought — “

I held up a hand to stop her. “Save it,” I snapped. I turned to Ian, my voice rising. “Who is she, Ian? And who is that child?”

Julia confronting Ian and Sophie in the bedroom | Source: Midjourney

Julia confronting Ian and Sophie in the bedroom | Source: Midjourney

Ian looked like he might faint. “I can explain, Julia. Please, just — “

“Explain?!” I cut him off. “Explain what? That you’ve been lying to me? That there’s another family in my house?”

Sophie looked horrified. “Ian told me you were separated! That you were out of the picture!”

I glared at Ian. “Out of the picture? That’s rich. I’ve been at my parents’ for three weeks, taking care of my sick mother, while you… you — “

“Julia, please,” Ian begged. “Let me talk.”

Julia turns her back on Ian and walks away | Source: Midjourney

Julia turns her back on Ian and walks away | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I said, my voice hard. “No more lies.”

I stormed out of the room, my mind in a whirlwind. Emma and Max were in the living room, still talking to Jason. I couldn’t bear to look at them, not now. I needed air. I needed to think.

I stepped outside, the cool air hitting my face like a splash of cold water. My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts. There was no one I could think to call, no one who could help me make sense of this.

Julia getting a breath of air outside and thinking about who to call | Source: Pexels

Julia getting a breath of air outside and thinking about who to call | Source: Pexels

I had to gather myself and face this chaos head-on. The betrayal cut deep, like a knife. But beneath the pain, anger simmered, waiting to boil over.

Inside, I could hear Ian’s muffled voice, trying to explain, to justify his behavior to the other woman. But there was no justification for this. For tearing our family apart, for lying to me, to our kids.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the storm inside me. I had to be strong, for Emma and Max. I couldn’t let Ian’s betrayal break me.

Julia beside one of her children, trying to maintain composure | Source: Pexels

Julia beside one of her children, trying to maintain composure | Source: Pexels

With renewed determination, I walked back into the house. Emma and Max looked up at me, their eyes wide with confusion. Little Jason still sat on the couch, oblivious to the turmoil he had unknowingly revealed.

“Mom?” Emma asked, her voice small. “What’s going on?”

I knelt down beside them, forcing a smile. “We’ll talk about it later, sweetie. Right now, let’s get some dinner, okay?”

They nodded, sensing my need for a momentary distraction. I led them to the kitchen, my mind still reeling, but my resolve strengthened with every step.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Sophie and Julia confront each other in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Sophie and Julia confront each other in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Sophie, equally stunned and devastated, joined me in the kitchen after Ian finally left, dragging his suitcase behind him. Sophie, to her credit, had ordered him out of the house. We sat in silence, the weight of the evening pressing down on us.

“I can’t believe this,” Sophie said, her voice breaking. “He told me you were dead. That you died four years ago. I never doubted him.”

I shook my head, feeling the sting of betrayal all over again. “I don’t understand how he could live this double life. It’s like I never really knew him.”

Sophie looked at me with tear-filled eyes. “I’m so sorry, Julia. I had no idea. If I had known — “

Sophie and Julia chatting and sharing their disappointment | Source: Pexels

Sophie and Julia chatting and sharing their disappointment | Source: Pexels

“It’s not your fault,” I interrupted, my voice softer now. “He’s the one who lied to both of us.”

We shared a bottle of wine, the alcohol dulling the edges of our pain. We cried and talked, finding an unexpected solace in each other’s company. The betrayal had shattered us both, but in that shattering, a fragile bond began to form.

As the night wore on, Sophie mentioned something that ignited a spark of determination in me. “I found a dating profile a while back. It had Ian’s picture, but he used a different name. I was too scared to confront him about it.”

I sat up straighter, “A dating profile?”

Sophie nodded. “Yes. I didn’t know what to do.”

Sophie sadly explaining how Ian deceived her | Source: Midjourney

Sophie sadly explaining how Ian deceived her | Source: Midjourney

An idea began to form, and I felt a surge of energy. “We need to make him pay for what he’s done. Let’s create a fake profile. We’ll use photos of Ian’s boss, Brian, and his wife, Lisa. We’ll lure Ian into a compromising conversation, get him to reveal all his dirty secrets.”

Sophie looked at me, her eyes wide with hope, but also doubt. “And then what?”

“Then we send it all to Brian. Let him deal with Ian.”

Sophie and Julia creating a fake dating profile of Ian together | Source: Pexels

Sophie and Julia creating a fake dating profile of Ian together | Source: Pexels

We spent the next few days putting our plan into action. We created the profile, carefully choosing photos of Lisa that would draw Ian in. It didn’t take long for him to bite.

***

Ian fell for the bait, hook, line, and sinker. He believed he was talking to Brian’s wife and soon started disparaging Brian, revealing all kinds of personal and damaging information. The final straw was when he agreed to meet at a hotel.

We took screenshots of everything and sent them to Brian, along with an explanation of who we were and why we were doing this. The response was swift.

Brian takes the bait on a dating app, incriminating himself | Source: Pexels

Brian takes the bait on a dating app, incriminating himself | Source: Pexels

Ian was called into a meeting with Brian and was fired on the spot for his appalling dishonesty and disloyalty. When he returned to pack his things, his face was a mask of defeat.

“You did this,” he accused, his voice bitter.

I looked him in the eye, my voice cold. “You did this to yourself, Ian. Now get out of my house.”

With Ian out of our lives, Sophie and I found solace in each other. We supported each other through the emotional aftermath, focusing on rebuilding our lives.

As the days passed, our bond grew stronger, turning our shared pain into a source of empowerment. We were no longer victims of Ian’s deceit but survivors who had found strength in each other.

Ian leaving the house for good, in shame | Source: Midjourney

Ian leaving the house for good, in shame | Source: Midjourney

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