"I'm not a child," she says. "I'm... I feel old. As old as the hills. But no. No, perhaps eighteen? Twenty? I don't know, Miss. But I'm not a child."

She leans her head against the bars. "I escaped from the mines and ran away. They lock me in a room with no food for weeks, Miss, when they find me again. Only a little, enough to keep me alive, Miss. And lights. Always lights."