Maya sank into her chair, the leather creaking in protest. Her gaze drifted toward the window, where the sun seemed to mock her with its relentless brightness. Each movement felt like a tremendous effort, a battle against an unseen force pulling her down.
"Hey, Maya, you okay?" Ben asked, pausing at her desk. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, filled with an irritating energy.
She managed a nod, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"I just booked a getaway to the mountains," he announced. "Gonna go hiking and camping - you ever do any of that?"
"No," she croaked out.
"Oh, you'd love it. Actually, I was just thinking, the whole camping thing reminds me of Camp Clearwater. Did you ever go there?"
Her eyes widened slightly. "Clearwater?"
"Yeah! The one by Silver Lake. I was there in the summer of… '98, I think."
"Me too," she mumbled, a flicker of something close to recognition in her eyes. "Cabin 7."
"No way! I was in Cabin 8. Wow. We must have…" He trailed off, suddenly quiet. "Wait, you were the girl who..."
The story of the lost key and the incident in the dining hall came back to her, and she was grateful she had a reason to close her eyes, if only for a moment.