Thomas quickly set the camera timer and joined Sienna in front of the fireplace, saying, “Ten years.”
Sienna smiled, resting her head against his shoulder. “Ten years of us.”
As the timer ticked down, she thought she heard a faint creak in the hallway. Her head instinctively turned, but she dismissed it, forcing herself to focus on the anniversary photo—just another snapshot of their life together.
Their home was filled with them: framed smiles on every wall, shelves lined with memories.
Thomas’s face softened with nostalgia. “Remember when we first moved in? We spent two nights on this floor with nothing but pizza boxes for plates.”
Sienna laughed. “And now every nook of this place has a story. And half those stories end up on Instagram.” She tapped her phone and tucked it away, determined to enjoy the night.
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains. Sienna stirred awake to the persistent ping of her phone.
“Check that, hon,” Thomas mumbled sleepily.
She reached for the screen, frowning. Dozens of notifications flooded her feed. “People are saying there’s something… weird in our photo,” she muttered.
Thomas rolled over. “Weird how?”
“Like… a face. Behind me.”
He scoffed until she showed him a screenshot a stranger had zoomed in on—a pale, childlike face, peering just over her shoulder.
Thomas shook his head. “Shadow, bad filter. Don’t obsess over it.” He kissed her forehead and got up to brush his teeth.
But Sienna couldn’t let it go. She compared photos, zooming in again and again. The face wasn’t a trick. It was there. In photo after photo, faint and blurry but unmistakable.
Her chest tightened. She remembered the noise in the hallway.
“Thomas… what if our house is haunted?”
He chuckled, but it sounded forced. “We’ve lived here for a decade. We’d know.”
Still, her unease lingered.
Later that day, she gasped when she spotted the face again—this time in the reflection of their front window as Thomas locked the car. “Stop! Look!” she cried.
Thomas squinted but saw nothing. The figure vanished.
That night, sleep came only in fragments. A mournful wail pierced the silence, followed by hurried footsteps in the hall.
“Darling,” Sienna whispered, shaking him. “Do you hear that?”
Thomas sat up, pale, and grabbed his phone.
“You can’t call 911 on a ghost!” she hissed, but he ignored her, dialling anyway, then reached for the gun in his drawer.
Together, they crept toward the sounds. The sobbing grew louder, childlike. They followed it to the kitchen—where Sienna froze.
A boy stood in the corner. Gaunt, filthy, eyes wide with terror. The face from the photo.
Thomas raised the gun instinctively. “Don’t move!”
The boy flinched and shook his head. “Help?” he whispered through sobs.
Sienna’s fear melted into pity. “You’re… hungry, aren’t you?”
The boy nodded desperately. “Hungry. Yes.”
“What’s your name?”
“Nikolai.”
Minutes later, he was wolfing down a sandwich at their kitchen table. His small hands trembled around the bread.
“Where’s your mother, sweetheart?” Sienna asked gently.
Nikolai’s watery eyes flicked up. “Mama… bad man keep Mama. Big dog by wall. I run. I bad son.”
A sharp knock rattled the door—the police Thomas had called. Nikolai panicked, bolting for the window before they could stop him.
The officers searched but found nothing.
By morning, Sienna refused to wait. She printed Nikolai’s photo from their “haunted” anniversary picture and canvassed the neighborhood. To her surprise, others recognized him. One neighbor, Nancy, even joined the search.
The trail led to a crumbling Victorian house. Chicory flowers swayed in the overgrown yard. A wire fence enclosed it. From behind, a dog snarled. Sienna’s heart pounded. Wire wall. Big dog.
She circled the house, hearing faint cries through boarded windows. “Mama…”
Police arrived within minutes, breaking the lock. Inside, they found a frail woman, chained and bruised, clutching a photo of her son.
“I’m Asya,” she wept. “He… my husband… monster. Keep us here.”
Down in the basement, officers found Nikolai hiding. He flung himself into his mother’s arms, both sobbing uncontrollably.
Later, as social workers guided Asya and Nikolai into safety, Sienna and Thomas stood together in disbelief.
“Imagine,” Thomas murmured. “One photo saved them.”
Sienna leaned into him, her eyes misty. “I’ll never complain about social media again.”
Back home, Thomas carefully placed the infamous framed photo on the mantle. The one that had started it all.
“It deserves the center spot,” he said with a smile.
Sienna chuckled softly. “The best anniversary gift we never expected.”
