He sighs, lips pressing together in a vague approximation of Abby's Mighty Frowny Face. It's not nearly as impressive.
But he knows she's right. In that he won't be able to escape giving her something. It doesn't mean he's any more detailed than he possibly has to be. He takes a breath, eyes closing as he counts to four and then exhales the way Abby had taught him once. A way to center himself. A different way to the Prayers, but still useful.
"Constance was their home. They capture people, buy them and sell them. If they kept you, then you had to work. Some had even worse jobs than us. We crushed rocks and made guns and farmed. Security beat and yelled at us a lot. We didn't get much to eat. It... sucked," he wrinkles up his nose, repeating the word Abby's used on more than one occasion to describe a certain course of events.