Chapter 8: The Photograph With Four Children
Marcus pounded against the nursery door.
“Denise! Open it!””
His wife stood several feet away, trembling.
Jordan was beside her.
Maya was no longer visible through the window.
The nursery door had become an ordinary white wall.
There was no handle.
No keyhole.
No opening.
Marcus pressed his palm against the wood.
“Denise, what happened?””
She shook her head.
“I don't know.””
“You had the key!””
“I used it!””
“Then where is the room?””
A soft voice answered from behind the wall.
“Daddy?””
Marcus stepped backward.
The voice continued.
“Can you hear me?””
It was Maya.
Jordan immediately approached the wall.
“Maya?””
A small knock came from the other side.
Three times.
Jordan pressed his ear against the wood.
“I'm here, Maya!””
A whisper came through.
“Jordan, don't let Mommy open the door.””
Jordan looked at Denise.
“Why?””
Silence.
Then Maya whispered:
“Because she knows what happened to Samuel.””
Denise covered her mouth.
Marcus turned toward his wife.
“Tell me the truth.””
She shook her head.
“Not here.””
“I'm done hearing that.””
“Marcus, please.””
“Did you bury Samuel?””
Denise looked at the floor.
Then she nodded.
“Yes.””
“Was he alive?””
Her eyes filled.
“I don't know.””
Marcus stepped closer.
“What do you mean, you don't know?””
Denise's voice cracked.
“When I found him after the fire, he wasn't breathing. His body was cold. I thought he was dead.””
“And you buried him?””
“I couldn't let them take him away!””
Jordan stepped forward.
“Mom, what are you saying?””
Denise wiped her tears.
“I carried him outside. I wrapped him in the yellow blanket. I buried him under the oak tree.””
Marcus looked toward the stairs.
“Then what was that thing in the crib?””
Denise shook her head.
“I don't know.””
A sudden vibration came from Jordan's phone.
He looked down.
The security application had opened again.
A new recording was available.
*ARCHIVED FOOTAGE — SIX YEARS AGO.*
Jordan tapped it.
The image showed the backyard.
The oak tree stood near the fence.
Denise was kneeling beside a freshly dug hole.
She was holding something wrapped in a yellow blanket.
Marcus leaned over Jordan's shoulder.
The footage continued.
Denise placed the bundle inside the hole.
Then she covered it with soil.
But just before she stood, something moved beneath the blanket.
Denise froze.
The recording's microphone picked up her voice.
“Samuel?””
The bundle moved again.
Then a small hand emerged from the blanket.
Denise screamed and fell backward.
The camera glitched.
When the picture returned, the hole was empty.
The yellow blanket lay on the grass.
And Denise was standing beside the tree.
Holding nothing.
Marcus stared.
“What happened after that?””
Jordan scrolled to the next recording.
The camera showed the same backyard the following morning.
Marcus walked outside.
He approached the oak tree.
He looked down at the ground.
Then he began digging.
Marcus felt his stomach tighten.
He watched himself kneel in the dirt.
His hands moved frantically.
He dug until his fingers were covered in mud.
Then he stopped.
He lifted his head toward the camera.
His lips moved.
Jordan turned up the volume.
The recording played a whisper.
“I buried the wrong one.””
Marcus dropped the phone.
“What?””
Denise started crying.
“Marcus...””
He looked at her.
“What did I bury?””
She shook her head.
“I don't know.””
The phone vibrated again.
Another archived recording appeared.
This one was from the upstairs hallway.
The camera showed the family standing together.
Marcus.
Denise.
Jordan.
Maya.
And a fifth figure.
A little boy in a yellow blanket.
He stood between Marcus and Denise.
His face was turned toward the camera.
The timestamp read 9:43 p.m.
The night of the fire.
Jordan zoomed in.
“Dad.””
Marcus stared.
The boy's face was unmistakable.
It was Samuel.
But something was wrong.
The child was standing perfectly still.
His eyes were open.
And his shadow stretched across the hallway.
Not toward the floor.
Toward the ceiling.
Maya's voice came through the recording.
“Mommy, who is that?””
Denise's recorded voice answered.
“Nobody, sweetheart.””
The little boy turned toward the camera.
Then he smiled.
The recording ended.
Jordan slowly lowered the phone.
“Mom, how many children did we have?””
Denise couldn't speak.
Marcus looked at the stairs.
Then at the family photographs hanging along the hallway.
Something caught his attention.
One of the frames was crooked.
He walked toward it.
It was a photograph taken on Maya's sixth birthday.
Everyone was smiling around a chocolate cake.
Marcus.
Denise.
Jordan.
Maya.
And a little boy standing beside the birthday girl.
Marcus pulled the photograph from the wall.
He stared at the boy.
Then he looked at Denise.
“Who is this?””
Denise's face went white.
She stepped backward.
“Put it down.””
“Who is this child?””
“Marcus, please.””
Jordan approached.
“That's Samuel?””
Denise nodded slowly.
Marcus looked closer.
The photograph showed Samuel wearing a yellow shirt.
His hands were folded in front of him.
He was smiling.
But there was something else.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written a date.
Six months after the fire.
Marcus turned it over.
Underneath the date was a handwritten sentence.
*THE REED FAMILY WELCOMES THEIR NEWEST SON HOME.*
Marcus's hands began shaking.
“This picture was taken after the fire.””
Denise nodded.
“Yes.””
“Then Samuel survived?””
She began crying harder.
“No.””
Marcus grabbed her shoulders.
“Then who was standing beside our daughter?””
Denise looked directly into his eyes.
“The child who came back wasn't Samuel.””
A sound came from the nursery wall.
A small fist knocked against the wood.
Then a child's voice whispered:
“Mommy, tell them.””
Denise closed her eyes.
Marcus released her.
“Tell us what?””
She looked at Jordan.
Then toward the wall.
Finally, she spoke.
“When the fire happened, I heard Samuel crying in the nursery. I went upstairs and found him.””
Marcus nodded slowly.
“You already told me that.””
“No. I found two babies.””
Jordan stared.
“What?””
“One was Samuel. The other was a little boy I had never seen before.””
Marcus shook his head.
“That doesn't make sense.””
“I know.””
Denise continued.
“They looked identical. Same face. Same eyes. Same little birthmark on their shoulder.””
Marcus looked at the photograph again.
“And you took one.””
Denise nodded.
“I thought I was saving my son.””
“Which one?””
She began sobbing.
“I don't know.””
The nursery wall cracked.
A tiny voice came through.
“Mommy?””
Denise turned.
The voice sounded terrified.
“I'm the real one.””
Then another voice answered from the other side of the wall.
“No, you're not.””
Jordan backed away.
Two children began speaking simultaneously.
One called for their mother.
The other called for their father.
Marcus covered his ears.
“Stop!””
The voices grew louder.
Then suddenly, one of them whispered something that silenced everyone.
“Daddy, you were the one who switched us.””
Marcus lowered his hands.
“What?””
A photograph slipped from the frame and landed at his feet.
He picked it up.
It showed the family standing outside the hospital six years earlier.
Denise held a newborn baby.
Marcus stood beside her.
But behind them, reflected in the hospital window, stood another Marcus.
Holding another baby.
The second baby was crying.
And the reflection was smiling.
Marcus stared at the image.
He finally remembered the hospital room.
The night Samuel was born.
He remembered a nurse handing him the baby.
He remembered the child opening his eyes.
And he remembered a whisper coming from the empty corner of the room.
You can take one home.
Marcus dropped the photograph.
May you like
From inside the wall came a final whisper.
“Daddy, now you have to choose which one stays.””
