Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a low, irritating drone. Amelia tapped her pen against her desk, the rhythm a deliberate counterpoint to the insistent chatter of her colleagues. Across the room, David was regaling them with a story, something about a disastrous camping trip. Amelia listened, a slight smile playing on her lips, her gaze drifting toward the window. The rain outside drummed a soft counterpoint on the glass.

Suddenly, David mentioned a particularly treacherous trail, "The Whispering Woods." Amelia froze. Her hand stilled. She vaguely recalled that trail.

“You went to Camp Willow Creek?” she asked, her voice a gentle inquiry. David's eyes widened.

"No way! You too? I haven't heard that name in ages." His voice was full of surprised energy.

Amelia’s shoulders relaxed slightly. "I remember a particularly stubborn camp counselor. Always making us eat our vegetables."