"My dad used to hit me," Freddie admitted. "A lot."

And worse. Why he said it, he didn't know. He'd worked so hard to run away from it, to forget it. And there he was, openly admitting it in front of a girl he didn't even know.

"I didn't have anything I could threaten him with, though. At least you've got that?" He found his head turning slowly, offering a pitiful smile of sympathy.