CHAPTER 22

"He picked me up off the streets and made me work for him in return for shelter and food."
I stopped glaring at him, taken back by surprise. Woody's face is expressionless, dark eyes hooded over so I can't make out what he's feeling.
"How long ago was that?" I ask quietly, dropping my eyes to the floor.
"Five years ago, I was thirteen." Woody murmurs, lighting up his cigarette. He balances it between his lips before inhaling deeply.
"No way are you eighteen, you look like...