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I wait. He looks at me. I look at him. Finally— "That sounds suspiciously like praise."

Rhyven takes his water. "Don't get used to it."

There it is. I smile. "Too late."

The clock reads twelve eleven. We both notice. Thursday has become Friday. No bells. No disappearance. Not tonight. Relief should come. Instead, unease. The pattern broke. Again. Or changed. Neither feels good.

Rhyven's expression shifts back toward Chief. "We report it."

"The lack of disappearance?"

"Pattern deviation."

"Nyra will already have it written."

"Probably." I gather my things. At the door, Rhyven stops me. "Your right side."

I look down. "What?"

"You're compensating."

"I'm sore."

"From earlier?"

"Yes." His jaw tightens. Here we go. "I'm fine."

"I know." I wait. He reaches toward me. Stops before touching. Points instead. "Vayne tomorrow."

"Rhyven."

"Not negotiable."

"You don't control my medical appointments."

"No." A beat. "But if you train injured, I'm removing you from tomorrow night's combat block."

I stare. "You can't do that."

"I'm running it." Damn.

"You are unbelievably irritating."

"Frequently."

"Possessive about my skeletal integrity."

"Someone has to be." I freeze. He does too. There. Another one. A sentence escaping before he checks it. His expression gives nothing away. Mine probably gives too much. So I save us both. "How noble."

"Go to sleep."

"Yes, Chief." He opens the door. I walk past.

Upstairs, the corridor is silent. Room Three-Zero-Four. Room Three-Zero-Five. Twelve feet. I unlock my door. Rhyven unlocks his. Before entering, I look back. He's already looking at me. Of course.

"Goodnight." I say.

"Night." A pause. "Vaelith."