She shrugged. “It was given to me,” she told him.
“How—how old were you when you came here?”
“Sixteen.”
“That young?”
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Hendricks rubbed his jaw. “Your life would have been a lot different if there had been no war. Sixteen. You came here at sixteen. To live this way.”
“I had to survive.”
“I’m not moralizing.”
“Your life would have been different, too,” Tasso murmured. She reached down and unfastened one of her boots. She kicked the boot off, onto the floor. “Major, do you want to go in the other room? I’m sleepy.”