Gemotions

He felt his face flush. Across the room, Susan, with her crisp professionalism, was describing a game of capture the flag. The details: the mosquito bites, the hidden trail, the rivalry between the Red and Blue teams. The descriptions resurrected a flood of forgotten memories.

"Susan," he said quietly, the words feeling heavy on his tongue, "were you… at Camp Willow Creek?"

Susan's posture stiffened. She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes wide. "James," she said, her voice barely audible, “how…?"