[Abigail feels another, stronger pang of sympathy. Her father never locked her in physically. She'd felt trapped though, knowing that he'd kill her if she ever said no to him, let alone tried to leave him.]

Is there another way out of your room, other than the door?

[She looks up at the house.]

Is one of the windows yours? I never left my dad but after he died, I was in another place. To get out, I would climb over the walls. You should have a way out in case you need it when the door's locked.

[She keeps looking up, hoping that she won't break down if she doesn't make eye contact. Her father had been a monster, and it sounds like this kid has a monster for a mom. It might explain the rabbit thing. He's trying to find a way to feel powerful when so much of his power has been taken away by his mom.

His mom may have even crossed the one line that her father didn't.

Abigail isn't good with kids or other trauma victims. Doesn't have Will's empathy, Hannibal's shrink skills or Alana's compassion. But she won't be like the all the people who ignored the trouble she was in.]

My dad would come into my room. He'd whisper things to me. Terrible things. Does your mom say things to you when she makes you get in bed with her? Or anything else? Does she ever, um, does she touch you?