Today I was cleaning the upstairs bathroom when I noticed the mirror was loose. I pulled it away from the wall and, to my surprise, found a faded photograph wedged behind it. The edges were curled and the image was blurry, but I recognized the girl with the red umbrella right away.

She was standing in the garden, her umbrella open even though the sun was shining. Next to her was another figure, taller, with their face scratched out so violently that the paper was torn. I stared at the photo for a long time, trying to make sense of it. Who was the other person, and why had someone tried so hard to erase them?

I brought the photograph downstairs and compared it to the others I've found in the house. In every picture, the girl with the red umbrella is there, always on the edge of the frame, always looking just past the camera. The scratched-out figure appears in a few of them, but never clearly enough to see who it is.

Tonight, I left the photograph on my nightstand. I keep glancing at it, half-expecting the image to change when I'm not looking. I know it sounds silly, but there's something unsettling about the way the girl's eyes seem to follow me around the room.

I'm not sure what to do next. Part of me wants to hide the photograph away again, but another part of me needs to know the truth. Maybe tomorrow I'll find the courage to ask the house for answers.