Gemotions

The overhead lights seemed to pulsate, matching the frantic rhythm of her heart. “Camp Firefly,” she managed, her voice barely a whisper. The smile on Alex’s face felt… knowing, almost predatory.

She picked at a stray thread on her sleeve. The idyllic memories he described, the camp songs, the swimming in the lake, all felt like lies, a façade covering something darker. The details he mentioned about the camp’s layout, suddenly felt… too close, too specific.

She gripped the edge of her desk, her knuckles white. She had to end this conversation, to escape the tightening grip of anxiety.