"You lived on pineapple street?" Officer Ben's mouth hung open in shock.
"Yeah. For sixteen years I did. And it was hell. Maybe a little sprinkle of goodness here and there, but mostly hell."
"Tell me. What happened there?"
She breathed in and out. "Where do I start?" In again, and then out. "We arrived at pineapple street, and got a house with two rooms. One room for my parents, and one for me. It was hell adjusting. However, I was still in my healing journey so I never really came out of the house, until a year later. At that point, my father's small art store was up. He was painting again. Not at the level at which he painted in France, but it was good. Meanwhile, I couldn't stand holding a painting brush. I was so traumatised."
Aveline paused again, and sipped out of her water.
