Katurian shrunk in his seat. Even after Edward was standing, he could still feel the touch of his fingernail. Lingering. Humming.

"The problem is that they already know I have it off." He forced himself to look at Edward, to keep his voice clear and even. "They sent someone to find me after you weren't there, and they know."

It had practically been an interrogation. Katurian's bruises were still fresh then, and the stitches stood unexplained in his medical records. The replacement had yelled at him, had demanded to know where Edward was keeping his anklet records, and Katurian had extended his empty ankle and said look, look, he wouldn't have any!

He leaned forward on the bed. "We're both in very serious trouble."