Who Are You, Gael

During the May Day holiday, I discovered a photo I had never seen before in the attic of our old house.

In the photo, a boy I didn’t recognize stood next to my younger self, smiling warmly with his arm draped over my shoulder.

On the back, in faded ink, it read, [Photo with Cousin Gael, Spring Festival 2010.]

The strange thing was, I had no memory of this "Cousin Gael."

"Mom, who is this person?" I asked, holding the photo as I walked downstairs.

Mom glanced at it and frowned in confusion. "Which person? Isn’t this just a photo of you?"

I quickly snatched the photo back, only to find that the man had vanished.

What was even stranger was that during dinner, Dad suddenly asked, "By the way, when is Gael coming? We should have him stay for a few more days this time."

Everyone nodded in agreement, as though this cousin, whom I had never heard of, was a familiar family member.

I stood frozen at the table, my silverware suspended in midair.

"Cousin Gael?" I repeated the unfamiliar name, trying to search my memory for any related moments, but found nothing.

——

Mom reached over to touch my forehead with concern. "Florence, do you feel unwell?"

"I... I don't remember a cousin named Gael," I said cautiously.

Suddenly, the table fell silent.

My parents and aunt exchanged a strange look.

"You silly girl, what are you talking about now?" Aunt Micah chuckled, "Gael has been with you since you were little. You two were inseparable, like you were always in the same pair of pants."

"That's right," Dad added, tapping his spoon against the edge of his bowl with certainty, "He’s come to stay at our house for half a month every Spring Festival. Last year, he even taught you how to make those delicious sweet and sour ribs. Don’t you remember?"

I felt a wave of confusion.

I had no recollection of these events, but they described them so vividly, as if they had really happened.

"I really don’t remember... um, so who exactly is this Cousin Gael?" I asked again.

Another awkward silence followed.

"He’s..." Mom started to speak, but then stopped, her brow furrowing, her voice becoming uncertain. "He’s... your aunt’s relative, I think?"

"Oh no, that’s not right," Aunt Micah immediately interrupted, shaking her head. "He’s not from my side, Gael is from your uncle’s side."

"I think he’s your eldest uncle’s nephew. He’s even taller than your uncle, about one meter ninety," Dad chimed in, though his tone was less confident.

The three of them exchanged uncertain glances, and the atmosphere became extremely awkward.

"You’re all not sure whose relative he is?" I asked, feeling a sense of unease creeping in.

"Maybe we’re just getting old and our memories aren’t as good," Mom chuckled awkwardly, quickly changing the subject. "By the way, tomorrow we’re going to visit our ancestors. Make sure you prepare the new dress you bought."

After dinner, I returned to my room, picked up my phone, and started scrolling through my album.

If Cousin Gael really was as close to me as they claimed, there should be photos of us together on my phone.

However, after going through all the pictures, there wasn’t a single one that included anyone who could be "Gael."

I opened my contacts and searched for "Gael", but there were no results.

This was too strange.

A cousin who supposedly grew up with me, but who didn’t exist in my memory or digital life.

With growing confusion, I decided to ask more family members.

I called my cousin, Sheena, from Uncle Dominic’s side.

"Florence, what’s up?" Her voice came through the phone.

Frowning, I cut straight to the point. "Sheena, do you know Gael?"