Russell occupied the time as she held him by idly scanning the kitchen, dubiously raising an eyebrow. After all, he'd never met her, and while he was pretty sure she had her reasons, there was the fact he had been sent away. He wasn't particularly bitter about it, mind you. After all, he'd had a rather good life. But he was hesitant at best to feel any connection, "Yes ma'am. It's nice to meet you."<br/><br/>His other mother had pitched this as a good idea. If he didn't discover himself now, when would he? That's what the college years were for, she insisted. And while Mr. Dunhill was the power in the family, Mrs. Dunhill had a way of getting what she wanted, how she wanted it. For some reason, she wanted this, and woe to the man who said no. If his adopted father couldn't say no, then who was he to?<br/><br/>"You have a nice home. It's... quiet." He offered politely, trying to delicately extricate himself from his mother. No blackberry, no clubs, no friends. It would be very... restful, he was sure. He was already counting the days.