The Spy • H.S

3|The spy

NOT EDITED (very sorry for grammar mistakes if you find any)

"Are you serious?" I scoff.

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?" He says.

"I'm not staying in a basement." I declare, looking at all five men standing around a nearly bald man who sits at a large, glossy brown desk that sits in front of a huge window that is more than likely tented. This must be this man's office.

"Miss Chapman, we have to follow your father's orders to keep you safe," the bald man reasons with a voice that could slice ice.

"So I'm being moved to a basement? That's safe to you?" I ask bewildered.

"It's not a basement," he shakes his head. "Think of it as an underground house, yeah?"

"How about I think of it as stupid and disgusting." I spit.

"Miss Chapman, I understand your train of thoughts on this, I do, believe me." He nods sincerely. "But this is for your safety, so please do as we tell you." He says sternly.

"My father would never make me sleep in a basement," I snicker.

"Well, we're not your father, so you are for the time being." He says and I huff.

"Fine," I say defeated. "Do I eat down there too?" I ask snidely.

"No, you just have to sleep down there, nothing else. It's a very private place, Miss Chapman, it's not at all what you think it is, it's very high tech, nothing like a basement, I promise." He chuckles softly.

"Is someone going to show me to it?" I ask.

"Johnny will lead the way." He gestures to Johnny (who is one of the men beside him) and he comes and ushers me out the door.

"Let's go, kid." He says, but not in a rude way.

"I'm 17," I give him a face, but he ignores it and keeps walking down a long hallway that has no decor at all and down a steep stairwell.

"Is this my home sweet home?" I ask sarcastically. He rolls his eyes and says nothing as we come to an automatic door. He puts the pad of his thumb against a scanner and the door beeps, opening up with a low hiss.

When we walk inside, the temperature of the room is much more colder than the other parts of the building. Chillbumps arise from the surface of my skin and I shudder.

"Does it have to be so cold?" I ask.

When the door behind us shuts, he lets go of my arm and points to a thermostat on one of the well painted off-white walls.

"You can set the temperature of the dwelling to your liking at any time. The climate of this room doesn't effect any other part of the house." He says and I nod.

"Nice to know," I mutter and start to walk away and further into the room. "It's a bit big for a basement don't you think?" I acknowledge.

"That's because it's not a basement, it was a library when the house was first built but clearly libraries aren't needed here." He says.

"My father knows I'm staying here?" I make sure.

"Yes, you are safe here." He tells me, crossing his arm over his chest.

"Do you know what time it is?" It accures to me. He looks at his watch on his wrist.

"It's 12:07, so if you're hungry, I could take you to the kitchen for lunch?" He raises one of his eyebrows.

"Uh, I think I'm fine, Harold stopped and bought me some food on the way here." I tell him.

"Okay, would you like me to show you around or leave that to yourself?" He asks, his eyes wandering through the place.