Susan opens her mouth, and then closes it. Perhaps the other girl isn't bitter, but for a moment, Susan sure is - aware of a sudden, petty wash of resentment at what feels to her like an accusation, and of a sharp defensiveness that makes her want to snap that she isn't some kind of spoiled rich girl, that she's been hungry before, too, that none of this is new. Her fists clench at her sides, then loosen, her lips pursing.

"Ye're too young to have been in prison," she says, at last, and there's more doubt in her tone than is maybe fair, more of a vicious desire to catch the younger girl out. "Ye're only a kid."