She watched his hands work - better than looking at his tired face. When he said his name she noticed a thick Irish accent she hadn't noted when he'd rattled off that stupid greeting. And then he asked about about her condition and he did it so... Casually. Like he wasn't afraid of it or her or talking about it and it was so weird. No one discussed it like that.
Well. Albie had been able to.
That wasn't what she wanted to think about. Gods she wanted something stronger than a smoke. And then she realized that's what he was asking about - the smoking, not the bite.
She stumbled over starting to talk again, "I. Uh. 'Bout ten. My dad just got them for me 'til I was old enough." She was still mumbling, but a little less so. And, so, yeah, Campbell hadn't been the perfect father - but he'd made sure she never wanted for anything, including nicotine.