Gemotions

The overhead lights seemed to flicker, mimicking the chaotic dance of the thoughts inside her head. The casual conversation in the break room felt like a personal attack. Camp Timber Ridge. The place was a festering wound in her memory, and now *he* was bringing it up.

"Timber Ridge was incredible!" he said, his voice too loud. "Remember the campfires? The ghost stories?"

She recalled the isolation, the relentless competition, the constant fear of being judged. She took a deep breath, trying to steady the tremors in her hands.

"I have to return to my desk," she muttered, before spinning around and quickly leaving.