Chapter 26

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I knew I had a concussion the moment I woke up. There was a faint ringing noise in my ears, the dim lights in the room where I lay hurt my eyes, and I had a dull headache. All telltale symptoms.

I sat up slowly, carefully taking in my surroundings.

I was on a small cot protruding from a concrete wall. The room the wall made up was quite large, actually, but completely unfamiliar. Across the room, there was a flight of concrete stairs, leading to what looked like a sliding door. It was shut tight. Several feet from the foot of the stairs, there was a chair, and in front of that a small podium like thing. I got off the cot and walked towards the stairs, but stopped suddenly.

Tony isn't stupid. I'm not stupid. We both know this. No way I'm hell he'd put me in here with a staircase and a door. He knows I'd find my way out.

"Wait a second," I whispered, taking a step back again.

I picked up the small pillow from the cot and walked to the center of the room, staring straight ahead of me. Suddenly, I whipped the pillow towards the stairs. I dropped to the floor as it ricocheted back and slammed into the wall behind me.

There was a forcefield confining me to half the room.

"No fucking way," I muttered, sitting on the edge of the cot. "That son of a bitch."

"Hello, Miss Stark."

A female voice I didn't recognize filled the room, and my eyebrows furrowed together.

"Are you there, God? It's me, Cara!"

"Your humor isn't going to get you anywhere."

"Oh, come on," I rolled my eyes. "That was funny!"

There was a pause, then the door slowly slid open. It was too dark for me to see what was happening, and I squinted up at it. I heard it close again, followed by light footsteps down the stairs. A woman who looked my age, if not a little younger, appeared at the foot of the stairs, holding a small tablet and looking slightly nervous.

"Hi," I called. "Now, I know you're probably not allowed to, but I would greatly appreciate it if you would please let me go."

She ignored my comment and sat down in the chair, looking straight at me.

"You have two Ph.D.s. One in psychology and the other in chemical engineering. Both were obtained before your twenty first birthday," she recited. "In addition, you have a plethora of masters degrees and an incredibly impressive IQ."

"Two points higher than my brother's. Just saying."

"You finished four years of high school courses in under a year and a half, after starting those classes at age twelve. At the age of fourteen, you entered an accelerated program at Princeton and finished in two years before obtaining PhDs off campus," she continued. "You speak seven languages-"

"And a half."

"Excuse me?"

"Seven and a half. English, Spanish, French, German, Polish, Italian, Mandarin, and I'm learning Russian."

"That's a hard one to learn."

"I've got a good teacher."

"Is James Barnes your teacher?"

I ignored her question. "So, you can read my résumé. Congratulations." I paused and thought for a moment. "Let me guess, CIA? No, no, FBI."

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