"I'll follow you anywhere," River confirmed, his voice a rushed whisper as he helped Ezekiel gather discarded clothes from the floor. He meant his words. River never lied. Not to Ezekiel. There was no need to do so. Sometimes a white lie was necessary with Father Lamont, something to distract the brute to keep one or both boys from avoiding trouble, but there was always the possibility that Lamont would discover their deception and punish them severely for it. Whippings with Lamont's leather belt, the one with the large brass buckle were common, along with burns and general beatings. The underside of River's forearms were littered with spots of damaged flesh, having been forced to hold himself above burning candles time and time again for his, as Lamont called it, disloyalty.<br/><br/>But River<i>was</i>loyal. Zeke knew. He slipped on his simple, unremarkable clothes once more, noticing just how uncomfortable the starched shirts were now that they were tainted with days' worth of sweat. For all the terrible things Father Lamont had done, he had at least always provided the boys with clean clothes.<br/><br/>“We can go down to dinner. They can't force us to stay, not if we don't want to. They don't have a basement here, do they?” River asked curiously, anxiety causing his voice to tremble as it weakly crawled from his throat.<br/><br/>“Your mother loves you. Isn't that what mothers are supposed to do? She got the man away. It might be okay.” River didn't trust Cassandra, but he was beginning to at least understand that she wished them no harm. He lacked experience with women, only having spoken to a handful of times during his years as Father Lamont's prisoner. Women had always appeared soft and welcoming to him. He distinctly remembered one instance of a cashier lady at a grocery store once commenting on what beautiful little boys he and Ezekiel were. River couldn't remember precisely how old he was when it happened, maybe seven or eight, though he did recall how he clung to his older “brother,” how Father Lamont insisted they stay close to him so they didn't get lost.<br/><br/>“What sweet boys, and so polite,” the woman had cooed, even as the two young children huddled behind Father Lamont. “Are they your sons?”<br/><br/>Father Lamont had nodded a curt yes. As far as he was considered, Ezekiel and River<i>were </i>his boys. It was his responsibility to raise them properly, as their biological parents failed to do.<br/><br/>“Oh, they look so different! One must take after their mother?”<br/><br/>Even River had understood at his young age that the woman was just attempting to be friendly, but he remembered how angry Father was when they returned home. Ranting about how they didn't try hard enough to resemble one another, how it would be their faults if someone tried to take them away from him. That was the beginning of Father always dressing the boys identically, a strange and unusual attempt at fabricating their nonexistent brotherly connection.<br/><br/>Ezekiel was quick to interweave his fingers with River's, leading the taller boy downstairs where Cassandra was plating food and Randall was waiting. River wasn't sure he liked Randall very much, especially after what had transpired upstairs. Women were temptresses, even when kind, but men were dangerous and capable of exacting harsh punishments. The stiff man expressed regret for scaring the young men, but River didn't take much stock in the apology.<br/><br/>River moved toward a spot at the table. Whether it was Zach's spot or not, he didn't know, but it was a fine spot nonetheless. He pulled another chair close to his chosen area, jamming his and Ezekiel's seats close. They'd be sharing a small spot for their dinner but neither boy cared about that much. River wanted Ezekiel close. He wanted to be able to touch his love if needed to soothe his wary mind.<br/><br/>“Food is nice, thank you,” River replied simply once he and Ezekiel had settled into their chairs. He avoided looking at either Cassandra or Randall directly, finding their stares to be too uncomfortable to bear. Once dinner was over, River and Ezekiel could return upstairs to the safe little haven of Zeke's old bedroom.<br/><br/>Either that, or they'd run.