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.

Lady Spots Daughter and Son-in-Law Who ‘Tragically Died’ 5 Years Ago and Follows Them – Story of the Day

Miriam’s relaxing beach getaway was shattered when she locked eyes with her daughter Pamela and her son-in-law across the hotel lobby, the same people she had tearfully buried five years earlier. With her heart racing, Miriam had to decide: confront the ghosts before her, or let them slip away into the sun-drenched crowd.

Miriam stepped out of the airport shuttle, inhaling deeply. The salty air of The Bahamas filled her lungs, which was a welcome change from the stuffy plane cabin.

At sixty-five, this vacation was long overdue. Five years of grief had taken their toll on Miriam, etching lines around her eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there before.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The Ocean Club Resort rose before her. Its gleaming structure promised nothing but relaxation and escape, so Miriam allowed herself a small smile as she followed a bellhop into the lobby.

The marble floors echoed with the chatter of excited tourists and the clinking of luggage carts, and Miriam stared at all their happy faces, hoping she would end up feeling just like them.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Welcome to The Ocean Club, ma’am. May I have your name for check-in?” The receptionist’s cheerful voice snapped Miriam out of her thoughts.

“Leary. Miriam,” she replied, fishing for her ID from her purse.

As the receptionist tapped away at the computer, Miriam’s gaze wandered. That’s when she saw them.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Time seemed to stop.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Standing by the gift shop, examining a display of colorful seashells, were two people who couldn’t possibly be there. Her daughter, Pamela, and son-in-law, Frank.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

But they were dead. Killed in a car crash five years ago… Or so she thought.

“Ma’am? Your room key,” the receptionist’s voice sounded distant.

Miriam’s hand shot out, grabbing the key without looking, while her eyes never left the couple as they turned away from the gift shop and headed for the exit.

“Hold my bags,” Miriam barked, already moving. “I’ll be right back.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

She hustled across the lobby, struggling with her breath. She was really out of shape, and the couple was almost at the door.

“Pamela!” Miriam called out. Even her own ears heard the desperation.

The woman turned, and her eyes widened in shock. It was unmistakably Pamela!

Suddenly, she grabbed her husband’s arm and whispered something urgently. Frank looked back, and Miriam saw his face transform into a mask of panic.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Without any more warning, they bolted.

Miriam’s heart raced as she followed them out into the bright sunlight.

“Stop right there!” she yelled, her voice carrying across the palm-lined driveway. “Or I’ll call the police!

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The threat worked.

The couple froze, and their shoulders slumped in defeat. Slowly, they turned to face her.

Pamela’s eyes brimmed with tears, but Miriam had no idea why. Was Pamela crying because of guilt, because of the lie, or because of something else?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Mom,” her daughter whispered. “We can explain.”

***

Pamela and Frank’s hotel room door clicked shut behind them, sealing off the cheerful vacation atmosphere outside. Inside, the air felt heavy, charged with the past five years of Miriam’s mourning and her current anger.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

She stood rigid with her arms crossed. “Start talking,” she demanded firmly.

Frank cleared his throat. “Mrs. Leary, we never meant to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” Miriam’s laugh was harsh. “I buried you. Both of you. I grieved for five years. And now you’re standing here, telling me you never meant to hurt me?”

Pamela stepped forward, trying to reach out. “Mom, please. We had our reasons.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Miriam recoiled from her daughter, although she also had the same urge. “What reason could possibly justify this?”

Frank and Pamela exchanged troubled glances, and it took a second before Frank spoke. “We won the lottery.”

Silence fell, broken only by the distant sound of waves crashing on the beach outside.

“The lottery,” Miriam repeated flatly. “So you faked your own deaths… because you won money?”

Pamela nodded and began to elaborate, although her voice could barely be heard.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“It was a lot of money, Mom. We knew if people found out, they’d all want a piece. We just wanted to start fresh, without any obligations.”

“Obligations?” Miriam’s own voice rose. “Like paying back the money you borrowed from Frank’s family for that failed business? Like being there for your cousin’s kids after their parents died? Those kinds of obligations?”

Frank’s face hardened. “We didn’t owe anyone anything. This was our chance to live the life we always wanted, and we don’t plan on letting anyone get in our way.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“At the expense of everyone who loved you, and I bet you’re also avoiding taxes,” Miriam shot back. She turned to her daughter. “Pamela, how could you do this? To me?”

Pamela looked down and sniffled. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t want to, but Frank said…”

“Don’t blame this on me,” Frank interjected. “You agreed to the plan.”

Miriam watched as her daughter wilted under her husband’s glare. At that moment, she clearly saw the dynamic between them, and her heart broke anew.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Pamela,” she said softly. “Come home with me. We can fix this. Make it right.”

For a moment, hope flared in Pamela’s eyes. Then Frank’s hand clamped down on her shoulder.

“We’re not going anywhere,” he said, resolute. “Our life is here now. We have everything we need.”

Pamela’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she whispered. “I can’t.

Miriam stood there, staring at the strangers her daughter and son-in-law had become. Without another word, she turned and walked out of the room.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

She couldn’t enjoy her vacation after that and changed her plans immediately. But the trip home was a blur.

Miriam moved on autopilot as her mind replayed the confrontation over and over. What should she do? Was faking your death illegal? Was Frank hiding something else?

However, by the time she reached her empty house, she had made a decision. She wouldn’t report them. Not yet.

She’d leave that door open, hoping against hope that Pamela would walk through it one day.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

Three years passed.

Miriam tried to move on, but the weight of this secret and the pain of betrayal never truly left her. Then, one rainy afternoon, there was a knock at her door.

Miriam opened it to find Pamela standing on her porch, soaked from the rain, with her arms wrapped around her body and looking utterly lost.

“Mom,” Pamela’s voice cracked. “Can I come in?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Miriam hesitated, then stepped aside.

Pamela shuffled in, leaving a trail of water on the hardwood floor. In the harsh light of the entryway, Miriam could see how much her daughter had changed.

The designer clothes and perfectly styled hair were gone, replaced by worn jeans and messy hair. Dark circles shadowed her eyes.

“What happened?” Miriam asked, her tone carefully neutral.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Pamela sank onto the couch, her shoulders hunched. “It’s all gone,” she whispered. “The money, the house, everything. Frank… he got into some bad investments. Started gambling. I tried to stop him, but…”

She looked up, meeting Miriam’s eyes for the first time. “He left. Took what was left and disappeared. I don’t know where he is.”

Miriam sat down across from her daughter, processing the information.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Part of her wanted to comfort Pamela, to wrap her in a hug and tell her everything would be okay. But the wounds were still too fresh, the betrayal too deep.

“Why are you here, Pamela?” she asked quietly.

Pamela’s lips trembled. “I didn’t know where else to go. I know I don’t deserve your help, after everything we did. How selfish I was. But I… I miss you, Mom. I’m so sorry. For all of it.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Silence stretched between them because Miriam had no idea what to do. This was what she wanted ever since that day in The Bahamas.

So, she studied her daughter’s face, searching for signs of the girl she used to know. After a few moments, Miriam sighed.

“I can’t just forgive and forget, Pamela. What you and Frank did… it was more than just lying. I think you broke the law. Faking your death may not be exactly illegal, but I bet you didn’t pay any taxes on that money. But also, you hurt a lot of people, not just me.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Pamela nodded as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I know,” she whispered. “And you’re right. Part of the reason Frank wanted to leave was to avoid paying taxes. Everything else… what he didn’t want to pay back to his family… well, that was just icing.”

“If you want to make this right with me and with everyone else,” Miriam continued, her voice firm, “you need to face the consequences. That means going to the police. Telling them everything. About the faked deaths and everything else you two did with that money. All of it.”

Pamela’s eyes widened in fear. “But… I could go to jail.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Yes,” Miriam agreed. “You could. I don’t want you to, but it’s the only way forward. The only way to truly make amends.”

For a long moment, Pamela sat frozen, sniffling slightly. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll do it. Whatever it takes.”

Miriam felt a glimmer of pride break through her anger and hurt. Maybe her daughter wasn’t completely lost after all. Being far away from Frank was definitely a good thing for her.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Alright then,” she said, standing up. “Let’s get you into some dry clothes. Then we’ll head down to the station.”

As they walked out to the car a short while later, Pamela hesitated. “Mom?” she asked. “Will you… will you stay with me? While I talk to them?”

Miriam paused, then reached out and squeezed her daughter’s hand, allowing herself to again feel and show all the love she had for her. “Yes,” she said warmly and desperately. “I’ll be there, for sure.”

“Thank you,” Pamela nodding and taking a deep breath. Suddenly, her expression shifted. Her mouth set in a firm line, and determination filled her eyes. “Let’s go.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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