[ The comment makes Eleven frown, but in thought not in unhappiness. She's trying to puzzle something out, clearly.
She doesn't know her father. She knows Mama, who gave birth to her. She knows Papa, who hurt Mama and raised Eleven and other numbers. She knows Hop, who... who is Dad, even though she's yet to call him that, and now never will.
Carefully, she settles on: ]
I don't know father. Papa wasn't... [ She stops herself. ] I live with Hop now. He's kind of old.
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She doesn't know her father. She knows Mama, who gave birth to her. She knows Papa, who hurt Mama and raised Eleven and other numbers. She knows Hop, who... who is Dad, even though she's yet to call him that, and now never will.
Carefully, she settles on: ]
I don't know father. Papa wasn't... [ She stops herself. ] I live with Hop now. He's kind of old.