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half. “You didn’t believe her, did you? That’s why you just charged in here like you owned the fucking place.”
    Jack brought his hand to her face but pulled it away when she glowered at him. “No,” he said, twisting his fingers in his lap.
    “I don’t want you in here,” Caroline said.
    “Why not?”
    “We have nothing to say to each other.”
    “I think we have plenty to say. What was that between you and Mr. Morton?”
    She’d made him jealous without doing much of anything. One tiny victory for the day. “What do you think it was?”
    “Are you two involved?”
    Extremely jealous. “Use your imagination.”
    “Are you going to answer any of my questions?”
    “I’ve answered enough of your questions already,” she snapped.
    Jack started twisting his fingers again. His occasional silences were almost amusing. 
    “You know,” she said, “when I first woke up I didn’t remember any of our…Q and A. Yes, that’s what I’d call it. It came back to me as I was waiting for the guys to arrive. I’m trying to decide my favorite part. Was it when you squeezed my broken cheekbone out of anger, or when you caused me to relive the trauma of the last time I saw my children alive? Maybe it was when you used that nice rapid fire method to try to trick me into admitting that I was lying.” She let out a short laugh. “Hell, let’s not limit it to one portion. How about I congratulate you for the whole fucking thing?”
    “Caroline-”
    Fuck his cheap attempt at an explanation. She had a point to make. “Is that what you people call a friendly chat? Was that an interrogation? Or were you getting your twisted little kicks by asking me about the most agonizingly personal parts of my life?”
    He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Caroline, I didn’t recognize you. I was afraid someone had planted you to fool me. You have no idea how strict we have to be around here. I couldn’t-”
    “Couldn’t ask me to take my contacts out? Couldn’t ask to get the guys so they could tell you how they got me out of that prison? Jesus Christ, Jack. I have a tattoo on my ankle. I have a bullet wound on my left arm. I have any number of personal identifiers that can’t be replicated. That you should have known and believed.”
    “Sweetheart, please-”
    His favorite pet name. A sneaky way to weasel his way into her psyche. How predictable. “Don’t call me that,” she said. “You could have handled this in a million different ways and you chose the shittiest method possible. Has anyone else showed up on this base claiming to be me?”
    Jack lowered his head. A small patch of red appeared across his cheeks. Well, that was her answer right there. But she wanted to hear him say it out loud.
    “How many people have showed up claiming to be me?” she asked.
    His gaze went all the way to the other side of the room. “None.”
    “Well,” Caroline said. “Fuck you.”
    He flinched. Good. He felt bad. She waited for him to try to sneak a word in, to try to apologize and justify some more, but he kept on staring at the wall.
    “I sound exactly the same as I always have but that wasn’t enough for you, was it?” she said. “You couldn’t have asked me those last two questions to confirm that I was who I said I was? You know damn well that no one else would have known the right answers. No one.”
    Jack was still avoiding her gaze. “You’re right,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. I just – I had to make sure it was you. I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”
    There were a great many things he didn’t realize. The longer their conversation went on, the more Caroline came to the understanding that perhaps he never would. “Of course you didn’t. For fuck’s sake, the least you could have done is take me to the damn hospital and worry about your precious conscience later.”
    “You think that’s why I asked you those things? To protect myself?”
    “You can’t pretend that was for my benefit. That