I... [He appears to change his mind mid sentence and promptly starts again.] No, I know that.

[Despite not wanting to share more than that, he just can't fight back the words, like he's compelled to elaborate.] I grew up a slave... [Almost but not quite there.] I've been a slave all my live until I ran. About six years ago. It's still difficult to think of anything as mine. And even more difficult to think of anything I would do to any of it to make it more 'mine'.