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[color=FB8D36]“That’s super duper weird.”[/color]

Ryana Beckett looked over the e-mail. Not that she didn’t get weird e-mails now-and-again; it was more that the orange-haired girl shouldn’t have been able to access it. 

Something about the internet and cellphone service at camp had gone a little crazy and even Ryana’s cavalcade of useless facts couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Other campers could make phone-calls but they were all limited to the camp, as if they were on a dinosaur internet network, like some kind of gonzo closed LAN kind of thing. The orange-haired girl had looked multiple times to the cellphone tower in the distance, wondering if the tower was the problem. But if that was the case her tablet wouldn’t have any issues loading Wikipedia or Google. She had even checked using a landline connection on one of the ancient computers in the counselors’ office! Nothing made sense.

And here was the e-mail. Talking about things she had seen once as a kid that she barely remembered. Jericho Watson? Recount what she had seen in grade school? Did she tell anyone? Did anyone believe her? Was this guy some kind of private investigator? Ryana raised a brow as she swiped down as she tried to think back to the third grade. Her parents were still together back then and well, that’s about all she had remembered particularly well. Perhaps she told her parents, but they certainly didn’t buy that whatever she saw was real. If anything they dismissed it as something she found out on the internet or on TV. She never went to therapy over it or anything. As far as Ryana knew the strange memory was a dream she had that had stuck with her for a few years before the divorce and sports became more significant things to think about.

She closed the e-mail, shaking her head as she pocketed her phone before shoving her hands into her hoodie's pockets.

There were more fun things to think about and grabbing a snack seemed to be the smart thing to do before she decided to find something to do.