When Memories Lie

e a little shaky. "Who

Such a great guy. He's tall, works in construct

more on the shorter side, stocky. Isn't he a park ra

being kind of quiet, really bookish. Last I heard, h

struction, park ranger, software developer. Their descriptions were all o

y voice even. "Which side of the family

over the room. They

r chin. "Well, he's.

. "He's family, Emily.

ts. No one could say if he

in my stomach. This was bey

A recent one?" I asked. "Or his phon

ave his number somewhere..." She scroll

"Yeah, I thought

they all checked their phones.

Aunt Carol insisted, looking flustere

at article about Yosemite,"

tal albums. No contact information. No texts, no emails.

aroid, the boy who had be

said, my voice flat.

appeared from it. They alre

, I cornered Mom a

Cousin Leo. And that photo... it chang

d fever when you were little, remember? Around that age. Maybe it muddled s

d memory gaps, yes, but this felt different. This felt like a tear

rd drive. Nothing. No mention of a Leo. No unfamiliar boy in any group shots from Thanksgivings past.