You never could tell about a person.  How their childhood affected them later in life, or the choices they would make based on how they were raised.  Miles, for instance, knew early on that his father was an asshole.  For years, though, he believed the sadistic treatment from the old man was his fault. 

“Why do you make me do this to you, boy?” he would ask, lashing Miles with the wide belt gripped in white-knuckled hands.  “Stop cryin’,” he’d say.  “My daddy beat me almost every day, and I turned out just fine!”

If the old man taught him anything, it was that you had to be hard to make your point—and a weak man was a powerless man.

Miles pulled up to the mold-stained little building, pai...

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