I am 22 years old. I have no memory of my parents as a child and no idea who or where they might be. I lived with an older woman when I was younger but even that didn’t last. She passed me on to foster care and I bounced from one family to another like a pinball until an incident caused that dismal little game to crash, to an end. The day of the incident I left and never turned back.
I work a minimum wage grind at a grubby diner and when I manage to find the time I study astronomy after hours. All this could quite possibly change with a snap of the fingers – the fingers belonging to this guy who walked in for a weak coffee and greasy fries. He came over and made an offer. He spoke and I listened. His speech wove one helluva tale. It presented a way out. A way that comes with a price.
