The white room was freezing, but Joie didn't shiver, didn't shift, didn't complain. In fact, she hadn't sad more than for words in the five hours since they'd found her. After the Academy had been destroyed, new pathways had been created. The tunnels, the secret passages, she knew them all like the back of her hand, even though she had not once stepped foot in the building.
Not until twelve hours ago.
Getting caught was part of her plan, but she had been hoping for a few more hours. There were things she wanted to get done first, and would have, if the student hadn't literally run into her on the way to class. She could feel the bruise forming on her cheek from the combat that had occurred. He had been a good fighter, but Joie had the upper hand. Until the other one came out of nowhere and knocked her out.
Joie's stomach growled and she cursed herself. She had used up her last protein bar on the hike up to the school and hadn't eaten since. For all she wasn't saying, her stomach had just given away a weakness. They could starve her. Starve her until she was weak and begging for food, then, maybe give her a bite if she answered some questions. That's what she would do, if the situation was reversed. What her training had taught her to do. Torture that didn't leave a physical mark.
Her eyes stayed on the mirror, though, her expression as cold as the glass. He was feet away from her, she knew—she could feel it. The closest she had ever been to him, and she was shackled to the floor. In a way, that summed up their whole relationship. She knew he was out there, but could never see him; he knew where she was, and refused to show.
The room's temperature dropped again. Smart. Continue to freeze her out, make her use up whatever conserved energy she had. She really hoped this was a class. A sick part of her reveled at the thought of her ruining his interrogation lesson.
When the door swung open, Joie popped awake. Had she been sleeping? What time was it? A quick check of her mental clock told her it was ten p.m. She had been sitting there for eight hours. Her body was stiff and sore from the fight and the cold, and her stomach felt like a knot in her throat. If they thought they would break her that easy, they had another thing coming.
The student who walked into the room was the same boy who had found Joie in the passage. Interesting choice, she thought, but she could see why they made it. She knew his face, he was familiar to her. She had fought him, so she knew what he could do and had some respect for his skills. He wasn't the one to knock her out, so he was "safe." And then they were playing on the girl side of her brain, too, because he was stunning.
Tall, broad shoulders, dark, neatly trimmed hair that was just a bit messy. He looked like a model on his day off. Any girl would have swooned at the sight of him. Joie was no exception. She had to keep reminding herself he was an operative in training. His looks were as much of an interrogation technique as everything else was.
He set the tray he was holding on the cold steal table and uncovered the plate. Steam wafted into the air, bringing the scent of curry and rice with it. A small, unwarranted sound escaped Joie, and she nearly kicked herself.
"Go ahead," the boy nodded to the food as he sat down across from her, blocking her view of the mirror. When Joie hesitated, he sighed. "It's safe," he promised, taking the spoon and shoveling some in his mouth. "And hot," he breathed, letting the steam leave his mouth before swallowing. "See?"
Joie took the spoon from him and slowly started mixing the food around. "Why?"
"Because you're starving and, obviously, no one else is going to bring you anything." He shrugged, "Look, I'm not saying I want to be BFF or anything, but I would feel kinda bad if you passed or something. Besides, then I wouldn't get interrogation credit."
Joie eyed him for a moment, taking a small bite. It was the best thing she had ever tasted. "You didn't make BFF plural."
"It's already plural, isn't it?" His eyebrows crinkled slightly and he turned from drop-dead-gorgeous to cuddly-cute. He was good.
"It is." She took another bite. "So, you're here to interrogate me?"
"Well, not now. Technically," he grinned at her a little, "I'm in my room reading before lights out."
Joie found the words falling out of her mouth before she could stop them. "What are you reading?"
He stood, taking the tray with him, a sly grin on his face, "I'll tell you in the morning."
When Six left the interrogation room, his professor was waiting for him. The man stood leaning against the wall, is arms crossed. He looked casual. A normal person walking past might even think he was relaxed, if they didn't know him. But Six had known this man for years. In some ways, he felt like he knew him better than anyone else at the school. Which was why he was having hard time figuring out why his father figure couldn't be that way to his own daughter.
"Well," he asked, pushing off the wall and matching stride with Six, "does she trust you?"
"Not one ounce," he commented, "but I think she likes me."
"Good." They'd stopped at the elevator as the retina scanner processed them. "You'll bring her breakfast before school starts. Choose carefully. Figure out what you want. Toast says you're concerned about her eating, but—"
"Lacks most nutrition, so she could see that as a way to keep her strength down. Hot meals don't happen that early, so I might have told someone else might know I'm doing this, or I'm trying too hard. Cereal, then. It's easy to get, has nutrition, and who doesn't like cereal?"
They had stepped out of the elevator when the professor turned to Six. "You're doing good. I want you to know that. I'm not going to ask you to hurt her, not in ways I know you can, but we need to find out who she really is."
"You mean," Six crossed his arms, "if she takes after her mother… or yours?"
The professor turned away, "Goodnight, Mr. Hale. I'll see you at class in the morning."
So like that, it was back to a student-teacher relationship. "Goodnight, Professor Townsend."