Steve feels like he's suddenly in the front row of a movie theater, and the show just took a twist to the sound of screaming strings and dramatic horns. His spine goes rigid, recognition dawning on him even as he asks his next question.

"Who are you?" His voice is gruff now, but not angry. She's just a child, a little girl. Brow beetled and blue eyes flashing, he tries again. "Who's your father?"