Your household was messed up. Really messed up. Your parents were either not there or they were adding to your growing collection of bruises, there was never any in between. Kitt was a friend of yours. Your parents always had been super strict about him; so you barely even acknowledge you knew him around then. As far as they were concerned, he was a boy in your class. You’d been sneaking him in after dark, and that’s when they found out. Your father pulled you into the hall, shouting about something. You felt the cold tip of a gun press between your shoulder blades. Your father had gotten his pistol out.

And Kitt was standing right there.