Was he to believe the young man? Even someone who had jumped a prison guard and was beaten and wrestled off of his victim might claim that he was beaten for no reason. All the same, it had to be investigated. Tristan intended to write a letter to... to where? He'd need to figure this out. And figure out how to do it without endangering his own position, and this man's safety. If what the young inmate said was true, and the guards found out he had spoken about it, things could get worse for him.

The man was talking a lot, but it wasn't the first time that a prisoner had shared a lot of personal things with him. They were locked in their cells most of the time, and when they were out, in the work room, or exercise yard, or chapel, they weren't allowed to talk to eachother. Many of them where desperate to talk to anyone who would listen. Tristan felt his way around the injuries, looking for any signs of internal bleeding, but he worked slow, to give the poor young man extra time in the company of another human being - well, one that didn't beat him.

"I'm sorry Mr. Longbottom. You should have been in a reform school, not prison, if what you say is true, but there is little I can do to shorten your sentence, I'm afraid. Is your family the Longbottom family from Whitby by any chance?" He had heard of them. He had even found out, from a disillusioned Tobias, that his friend played father to what might be this young man's niece. There was no need to remind anyone of that connection though. Emma, at least, was saved from the horrible fate of being a Longbottom, even if she was doomed to grow up with warring parents.

Life was kind of shit, actually, wasn't it?...