[John's hyperaware of the attention, and he lowers his voice, body stiffening. That just makes his ribs and shoulders hurt, and he winces for the pain.]

I wasn't abused.

[Abuse is verbal, it's physical. Not... nothing.]

I don't remember when I last spoke to them. Summer, probably. Summer of '93? [He'd have been 18 back then, heading off to uni. That sounds about right. 17 years ago is a long time to remember the details for.] We probably talked about them converting my room to a study or something. Does it matter? How would anyone even know about it?