Gemotions

The break room was a disaster. Crumpled wrappers, a half-eaten bagel, and the lingering scent of microwaved fish haunted the air. Amelia stalked inside, prepared to grab her usual mid-afternoon coffee, when she heard it. "Remember that crazy slip-n-slide at Camp Whispering Pines? Best summer ever!" Mark, the project lead, was beaming, regaling the intern with tales of their childhood. Amelia froze.

Her hand tightened around the ceramic mug she clutched. She knew, with a certainty that settled like a stone in her stomach, that Mark was talking about the same Camp Whispering Pines she'd attended – the one where she’d meticulously avoided any and all social contact.

"You went to Whispering Pines?" she managed, her voice tight. Mark looked up, his smile faltering slightly.

"Yeah! Counselor Ben was the best, right?" He didn't seem to notice the change in her demeanor, his enthusiasm completely intact. The way he was speaking, as if he knew something about her that she hadn't given him the right to know was irritating.