It started as a typical evening, scrolling through old photos on my phone. I was reminiscing about trips and parties when something caught my eye. In a photo from a road trip two years ago, taken at a remote gas station, I noticed a man in the background—a man in a dark hoodie, staring directly at the camera. I didn’t remember anyone else being there that day, but I shrugged it off as coincidence.

Then, I saw him again. This time, in a photo from my sister’s wedding, standing by a tree. Same dark hoodie, same intense stare. My heart began to race. How could the same person be in two completely unrelated photos, years apart?

Frantically, I flipped through more pictures, and there he was again. At a Christmas party, near the back door. In a beach photo, standing by the lifeguard tower. My stomach dropped. This was no coincidence.

I deleted the photos, but when I checked my phone again, they were back. The man seemed closer in each one, his face becoming clearer, his eyes locked on me.

Then my phone buzzed with a new notification. A photo I hadn’t taken had appeared in my gallery. It was a picture of me, sitting on my couch, holding my phone, with the man in the hoodie standing directly behind me.

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