After their baby was born, Son and Han noticed their dog, Ink, never left the nursery. At first, it was comforting — a loyal guardian watching over their child. But every night at exactly 2 a.m., Ink would growl at the same dark corner. His low rumble filled the quiet house, thick with unease.

One night, Ink began pawing at a small crack in the wall, whining as if trying to warn them. Curious and uneasy, Son called a retired police officer neighbor for help. Together, they pried the wood open — and behind it lay a small, rusted chest covered in dust.

Inside were old letters, a faded photograph of a woman, and at the bottom, a small wooden dog carved from black wood. On its base were the words: “To guard and protect.”

In that moment, they understood. Ink hadn’t been growling at something evil — he’d been sensing something ancient, protective, still lingering in the house.

After that night, the growling stopped. The nursery felt lighter, peaceful. The baby slept soundly, and Ink rested quietly by the crib — as if two guardians, one living and one carved from wood, had finally found each other.