The constant hum of the server room was a low-level irritation for Amelia. It vibrated through the floor and up into her bones. Every morning, she felt it as she arrived. She was already in a bad mood, the commute had been awful.
"Hey, Amelia!" said Brad, bounding into the office. "Did you see they're doing a team-building retreat this year?"
Amelia sighed inwardly, feeling a familiar tightness in her chest. "Yeah," she replied, her voice clipped. "I saw the email."
"I'm so excited! They said there would be archery and a ropes course." Brad then proceeded to describe various team-building activities, his voice enthusiastic.
Archery. Ropes courses. She clenched her fists. She hated team-building activities.
Later, as she was filling her water bottle at the communal water cooler, Brad walked up to her. He was talking animatedly on the phone. "…and the campfire songs! Oh my god, I had the worst rash! That was the year I went to Camp Clearwater!"
Camp Clearwater. The name sent a jolt of recognition through her. She turned, her shoulders stiffening slightly.
Brad hung up. "Hey, Amelia, did you ever go to Camp Clearwater?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Amelia hesitated. She had spent a summer there, one she'd tried to erase from her memory. "Maybe," she said, trying to deflect the conversation.
"No way! I was there too! Did you know the head counselor, Miss Abigail? She was the best!"
Amelia felt a surge of something she couldn't quite name. She took a long, slow drink of water, trying to compose herself. "I really don't have time to talk about this," she said finally, turning to walk away. "I have a lot to do."