EZEKIEL FOLLOWED Father toward the cliffs, away from the majority of the picnic guests.
They stopped near one of the blankets, but neither sat. Ezekiel looked at his father, forcing himself not to take more than one glance in Flavian’s direction. Whatever Father wanted to speak about was not a pleasant subject for a picnic.
Father stared back at Ezekiel for long moments without speaking. He didn’t yell, but he wouldn’t yell in public, not unless it would gain him some strategic advantage, and that wasn’t likely when he dealt with his son. So Ezekiel didn’t expect much thundering, but that didn’t mean what he would get wouldn’t be worse. He had always hated Father’s cold silences and how much anger and disappointment he could pack into a quiet tone when he took his son to task.
Finally,
